Step by step
by Triadwriters
Summary: Molly is about to get married but can an accidental meeting change her mind? Collaborative writing experiment between Gemmadog, Sarahlouisek30 and MissPiony. The story where anything can happen.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Triadwriters is MissPiony, Gemmadog and Sarahlouisek30 writing together as a little experiment to amuse ourselves and hopefully you._**

**_We have agreed the content of this first chapter, then will take turns writing the upcoming ones. The author of a chapter will have full freedom to take the plot where she wishes, so it will be a surprise for us all how the story develops and where we have to continue from where previous chapter ended. We have different writing styles and the purpose is not to mimic each other but to use that to create a surprising and hopefully intriguing story. Some chapters may be written in passive voice, others in first person and from different persons' perspective depending on what we feel like writing. We will just see how it develops and have fun!_**

**_We have no idea yet how this will end but hope you join us to find out._**

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**Chapter 1**

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How did I get myself into this mess? I'm not sure. Or wait, I am; my so-called dad used emotional blackmail, or should I say outright threats, to get me to do what he wanted, and here I am.

Tomorrow is a big day in the Dawes family because there will be a wedding, the first to take place since mum and dad tied the knot. The supposedly happy and blushing bride-to-be is none other than me. Tada! The thing is, I'm not happy. Everyone else is excited about it on some level, but when I meet my own gaze in the mirror I look pale and my green eyes radiate angst more than anything. I'm not sure I want to marry my fiancée, Artan.

A marriage arranged against the bride's will. One could think we are in some third world country or the Medieval ages, but we're not. We are in the UK, London Borrough Newham in the 21st century and yet my dad, Dave, is forcing me to do this.

To an outsider it wouldn't seem all that strange that I marry Artan. When he gave me a ring on my eighteenth birthday, we had been going out for nearly two years. We had a rocky, unromantic start of occasional unsatisfying shags, which somehow had developed into a serious relationship. After getting engaged it would seem a natural next step to get married, but already when I with some reluctance accepted that ring I knew he wasn't a 'good 'un' as me Nan use to say. Besides being a hustler mixed up in all sorts of grey zone or even illegal stuff, I suspect he already by then had cheated on me more times than I can count, but I chose to accept that as long as I didn't have downright proof. People say I'm feisty, strong willed and take no shit, yet I accepted Artan treating me like that. Maybe because he was nice to me every now and then and I desperately longed for a man to treat me nice and make me feel special because no man ever had, least of all my permanently drunken dad. So, I let Artan shit on me until he overstepped the mark that same day he had given me the ring, on my eighteenth birthday. That night, I walked in on on him shagging my mate Mary in a night club toilet booth. They didn't see me, too wrapped up in their pleasure. I backed out, humiliated and irked, walked home alone, crying. After that I tried to avoid them both. Decided that was it, I had had enough and we were over. I had too much self-respect to stay with a guy who shagged my friend on my birthday.

It turned out it wasn't so easy to break it off though because my own dad had other plans, which was surprising as he never had been a big fan of Artan. He always asked what I was doing with that Albanian Muslim instead of a genuine Brit bloke. The reason he changed his mind now was money. Or rather lack thereof. My dad has been on the dole for so long that he risked being cut off from it and get no more allowance. The prospect of no quid to spend on beer down at the local pub obviously called for desperate measures. Without asking me, dad and Artan had conjured up a plan. If I married Artan, he would help dad arrange a small "accident" involving a nail gun, just serious enough to make him entitled to sick pay. I got to hear about this plan the day I dropped at home that it was over between me and Artan. I have never seen dad so furious, and believe me I _have_ seen him furious many times but not like this. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me hard up against the wall, shouting at me so close to my face that I could feel little droplets of spit land on my skin.

"You won't destroy this for me, you little tart! You will marry him and he will help me! You owe me that."

I have no fucking clue what he thought he had contributed with during my childhood for me to owe him anything, but his angry self-righteousness was certainly overflowing.

"I don't wanna marry him! I won't! You don't know what he has done, he's a cheating bastard." I tried to tell him, but none of it mattered to him.

"And you're a dirty slag so you make a perfect couple. You'll marry Artan or you won't be part of this family anymore."

I didn't take him seriously at first.

"I won't miss you", I spat back.

When he answered his tone was calm, low, but ice-cold, so much scarier than the shouting before.

"I promise you this Molly Dawes, if you don't marry Artan you'll never set foot in this house again. You won't see your mum, your brothers or sisters or your Nan ever again. I'm the head of this family and that is how it will be."

There was absolutely no love in the depth of his eyes, only desperation for the money and hate of the life he was trapped in and now wanted to snare me in too. I knew then he was dead serious.

I couldn't imagine a life without my sister and best friend Bella, without the little ones, mum or Nan. I loved them too much. So, despite that I cried myself to sleep that night and many nights to follow, I gave in to dad's threats. I made up with Artan even if I despised him and shunned his touch. Even if I could clearly see how my shitty little life with him would play out; loveless, poor, loads of kids that he would leave me to take care of when he was out cheating or getting pissed. I told myself I had to pay that price to keep those I loved, that even if the price was high, losing them was worse. It wasn't likely that I would have a brilliant future anyway, not with my background. As if Artan felt how detached I was, as if he knew my doubts even if he never knew I had seen him with Mary, he tried harder than ever to act the devoted boyfriend over the months that followed before the wedding. I think he has given up his little 'things on the side', he has been attentive and kind of loving, but I somehow doubt it is genuine and lasting.

Tonight, I don't know how I will be able to make it through. Not the wedding, that will be over quick enough, but the life I have to live thereafter. I sit staring into the small mirror in the room I'm still sharing with Bella and Jade and it feels like I'm going to break into pieces. Sometimes my gaze shift to the wedding dress on a hanger and can't quite grasp it is mine and I'm supposed to wear it tomorrow. It is actually beautiful, but it feels surreal that I'm getting married.

"Hey you, how are you?"

Bella, my favourite sister, closest to me in age, has entered the room and sits down next to me. She lets her fingers run through my long hair, combing it and then starts making a braid. I'm not even sure she is conscious of what she is doing, it is simply a comforting ritual we have done many times before.

"I just can't believe I'm getting married."

She stays silent for a while before she speaks again.

"You don't have to, you know."

That is where she is wrong. If I don't I will lose this, lose her. I may not be sure if I love Artan enough, but I love her enough.

"I want to." It is not a complete lie, even if the reason is all wrong, but she knows me too well.

"Why Molly? You deserve so much better. You know what he is like. He will just be another version of dad, worse maybe."

She continues to fiddle with my hair and I allow myself to enjoy the touch, so much more loving than any touch from Artan ever has been. I swallow before I'm able to speak.

"I'm marrying out of love." For you, for my family. "That is all you need to know."

She also knows me well enough to pick up the vibe that there is nothing further to be said, I'm marrying Artan tomorrow. Somehow Bella's concern has strengthened me in my decision. I can never be without her. I'm not happy when I go to bed, but I feel a calmness in my nut. My mind is made up and this is the way it's gonna be.

Yet, there is an unconvincing knot in my stomach next day. All through the morning when I get ready; carefully curl my fake blonde locks, put on makeup and finally the dress. I don't look too shabby when I'm done, but I don't look happy.

We will obviously not have a church wedding as Artan is Muslim, so we will marry at the register office. It has been decided that mum and I will take a cab there, so I will arrive in some style but the rest of the family will take the metro to save money.

I'm not used to go by car in London and watch the streets and people pass by, feeling oddly detached. Is this my city? Is today my life? It doesn't feel like it. The ride is over far too soon. Slowly I get my arse out of the cab, trying to convince myself I'm taking it slow because I at least want to look dignified but knowing it really is because I want to stall the whole thing for a few minutes longer.

Then I'm hit by something with force, it hurts and I'm knocked out of balance, easily done on high heels and the hard ground is fast approaching. 'So much for a dignified entrance', flashes through my mind. Somehow the fall is interrupted and I'm supported, steered into upright position again and find myself looking up into a pair of brown eyes belonging to a man who seems to have been both the cause of my near fall and my rescue as he is holding on to me. He is totally gobsmacking gorgeous. In addition to those eyes, there is wavy, thick, dark hair, a face which is nothing less than perfection and that perfect head is attached to broad shoulders, followed by a tall, athletic body which he on top of everything has dressed in a _very_ sexy uniform.

My first thought is that I didn't know men like this existed for real. My second thought is a flash of hope that he is someone Bella has arranged as a very late hen surprise. That would surely be a valid reason to postpone the wedding a bit, to indulge a male stripper if your sister has gone to lengths to arrange one. My third thought is not as much a thought as my senses registering that the palms of his large hands are still placed firmly around my waist after balancing me. Solid. Strong. Warm. Electrifying. His gaze wanders down my body, I see his eyebrows raise as he seems to register that I'm in wedding attire. His eyes shift back to my face, but instead of the apology that could be expected for nearly running down a bride, his face twists into an almost furious expression.

"Only fools get married! Either the wedding day ends in disaster or there's a divorce down the lane anyway. Why don't you save yourself from that misery?" he blurts out.

Now, this provokes me.

"Maybe I happen to love him very much." No need for this gorgeous but rude tosser to know that is far from true.

"Then I pity you even more, because then you're the one who will get hurt."

Now I almost feel motivated to marry Artan just to prove him wrong.

"You bumped into me, hard, so it hurt and I almost tripped over. That gives you no right what so ever to tell me if it's right or wrong to get married. You don't know me. You don't know him."

He stares at me, looking almost wild. Maybe he is a lunatic on the run. That would explain the excentric uniform and why he seems a bit out of breath even if he looks so fit. He exhales a big sigh and rakes his fingers through his hair.

"You're right. I don't know you and I don't have any right to interfere with your life. I hope you are doing what is right for you and that you'll be happy."

It isn't an apology but nearly. Only now does he seem to register that he still holds me and quickly lets go. Pity. I already miss the touch though I shouldn't. I'm pretty sure by now he isn't a stripper Bella has arranged but I have to make sure so I don't miss out on anything.

"You're not a stripper, are you?"

"What?"

"What with the uniform and being all fit, I thought my sister might have put you up to this."

"Right before your wedding?"

"You never know with my family."

He shakes his head, tongue in cheek and suddenly looks amused instead.

"I can promise you I'm not a stripper, this uniform is real."

His amusement seems to increase when I'm unable to keep my disappointment from my face.

"You should ask your husband instead."

"What?"

"To strip for you tonight. After all he is the one you'll be having sex with for the rest of your lives."

Hadn't thought of that. Not that fidelity has seemed important to Artan in the past but maybe it will be now that we are married. Will _be_ married, we're not yet. Anyway, our sex life definitely has room for improvement. Probably it would be much improved if he wasn't in the bed. He is too focused on his own pleasure and I'm not that attracted to him.

"You look absolutely thrilled. Sure you want to marry this guy?" Challenging he cocks an eyebrow. Now, this guy is extremely attractive. I'm sure adding him in my bed would be an improvement even if he also is extremely annoying.

Suddenly I feel like crying.

"Bugger off", I whisper and bite my lower lip because I feel there is a risk it might start to tremble. I'm not a crier, I'm hard as nails and crying before _this_ man is the last thing I want.

His expression shifts to one of concern and his dark brown eyes bores into me in a way which is almost too much to take.

"Everything alright, luv?"

Mum has finally sorted paying the cab driver using all the coins which she this morning took from the blue tin she keeps hidden from dad in a kitchen cupboard. The driver didn't look best pleased when she started counting them carefully, not to pay him too much.

"Yeah, this prannet just nearly ran me down and is nothing but rude, but yeah, I'm alright."

I sniffle. Shit.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Must he sound so sincere and suddenly caring?

"Well you did, so I suggest you run along and do whatever you're supposed to do in that bloody uniform..." Shitting hot uniform. "... mind your business and I'll mind mine."

He gives me one last stare, this time not hard, but searching and strangely soft which somehow makes my stomach twist, then he nods as if accepting something, turns and strides away.

Half shocked I just watch him go. Shocked over his appalling rudeness to a bride. Shocked over the attraction said bride feels to him despite the rudeness. Shaken by the way he has challenged me getting married. Probably because my own doubts are growing by the minute._ Until death do us part_. Is my family worth that sacrifice?

"Should we go in then? Everyone is waiting."

That is exactly what scares the shit out of me.

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**_A/N: MissPiony was holding the pen for this first chapter. Gemmadog is up next and I can't wait to see where her imagination takes this._**

**_Pleased if you let us know what you think._**

**_xxx_**


	2. Chapter 2

Step by step

Chapter 2

My nerves get the better of me. I'm wondering just what the hell I am doing? Why am I doing this?

Then I see why. I see his figure in the distance, watching me. Dressed smartly. Smarter than I've ever seen him before, but still it looks wrong. After my earlier encounter with the military Adonis, Artan pales onto comparison, but he always did. His suit cheap, ill-fitting and hanging on his pathetic form. I don't love him, I know that. Hell, I don't even like him. So again, I ask myself why?

Then I catch sight of my Bella, and my mum moving closer to me. Both happy, excited by the day's events making me realise that I have to have to go through with this if I still want them in my life. The secret threats made by my father many times, and even as recently as the night before, the heated confrontations with Artan, have all led up to today. Their constant bullying working and eventually making me realise I can't do anything but go through with this.

I'm too much of a coward. I don't like the pain or the upset this could bring me. Not mentally, mentally I couldn't give a shit about my feelings, but physically...well let's just say that some guys know where and how to hit, and Artan was exceptional in that department. Nowhere obvious, nowhere that leaves marks, or raises questions, but still his fist, his hands upon my person inflict more than just marks. I'm scared of him, what he's capable of and I have no other options.

I know my time is short. That I need to move forward. My Mum's arm gently pulling me along with her. Closer to the group gathered. Closer to my inevitable fate.

"Hang on mum. I need a wee." I hear myself say, and watch as she registers my request.

"Ok love." She sweetly replies.

Oblivious to the reasons of me through with this. Unaware at how much of a monster her husband is. She thinks is all because of love, and she's here to make sure her baby girl has a good send off.

"I'll wait here." She kindly offers.

"No." I firmly reply. Wanting some alone time. "You go up. I'll follow." And with that she starts walking away. Only too happy to start the celebrating. Only too happy to join her husband, who has been in a better mood lately with her, and she doesn't know why, but won't question it. She wants to enjoy the small wins in life.

"You want me to stay? Bella asks. "Help you with the dress and that?"

"Nah. I'll be fine." I bravely say.

"Yeah sis but what about them stairs?" She continues, nodding her head to an imposing stair case. "You'll break your bleeding neck in them heels going up there on your own."

I try to laugh. My heels, borrowed from proud Mary are high, pointy and pretty awful, but they were the only choice. My 'something borrowed' everyone assured me. In fact, I'm not wearing anything bought just for me. The dress wasn't new either. A charity shop job, fairly decent, but a million miles away from something I'd have chosen.

"I'll take the lift." I reassure Bella. "Go. I'll be two mins."

She sets off running too on hearing the angry mutterings of our father.

I turn away and walk into the smart toilets of the Town Hall. Savouring my last few minutes of freedom.

I'm not alone in there. There's a beautiful bride in here with me too. Her dress, I notice is new, expensive, her shoes obviously bought for the occasion. Her make up looks professionally done, unlike mine. She looks perfect, the opposite to me, apart from the tears and the huge sobs rolling from her body. It's obvious they ain't happy tears. This beautiful woman is quite clearly heart broken, but I'm too caught up in my own misery to care.

Eventually she leaves, no words are spoken and I'm alone.

I stare at myself.

Just turned 18, it's meant to be the start of my life. Yet all I can see are years of drudgery, hell, and lots of different kinds of hurt ahead of me.

There's no other way though I know that. Seen how me Mum's life has been, though I'd hoped for better, it wasn't gonna happen. Hardship, broken dreams, second best; it's what happens to people like me. We get the shit end of the stick each and every time.

I man up. Leave the toilets and call the lift. It was only two floors up to the room but even though today is the worst day of my life I don't want to break my neck on the stairs. I keep my promise to Bella and enter the lift, ready to ride up to my destiny.

I hate Elvis for what he made me do. I had to break that poor girls' heart and I don't know why. Only yesterday he was telling me just how much he loved her. How Georgie was the one for him. His everything. And then this morning, the phone call, telling me he couldn't go through with it. That was all, no explanation, and me, his so called 'best man' has to be the one tell her.

She broke right there and then front of me when I told her. I've never seen anyone so hurt, well not since Rebecca, my ex-wife. The woman who cheated on me, then played the victim when she was caught out and I told her it was over. But Georgie's reaction today actually outstripped anything I've ever seen. I could actually pin point the second her heart broke and the rage boiled up in me. He was her world, Elvis was her everything, and he just destroyed it. Proving to me that love really is for mugs.

I delivered the awful news and then left. Too much of a coward to stay. Too guilty to ever look in her eyes again. So, I left quickly, running away from the destruction I'd caused on Elvis' behalf.

Away from anything I could do with weddings. I even upset a future bride to be with all my hate for the institution of marriage. A young scared woman that I crashed into on my haste to leave. I spoke spiteful, angry words to her, even though she didn't deserve it. Even made her cry too. Feeling even more of a shit as I watched how her beautiful green eyes had filled up with tears at my assault on the pointlessness of her upcoming nuptials. It was meant to be her happy day, and just like I had done to Georgie, my words had probably ruined hers too.

Shit. In my haste to leave I noticed I left my gloves behind. I remember taking them off to wipe my brow moments before I broke Georgie's heart. Angry with myself even more so now. I was in two minds as to whether I should go back for them. Then realising the hired ceremonial sword, I carried, and Elvis' presumably back at the hotel, needed to be returned to the armoury tomorrow wearing full kit I knew I'd need them back and soon.

I doubled back at speed. Praying the Georgie and Elvis' wedding that didn't happen party would have disappeared by the time I arrived.

I was in luck. The place was mainly empty. There was just a small group of hanger ons, so rather than risk bumping in to them, to avoid all the questions I didn't have the answers for, I made my way for the lift.

"Hold it please." I commanded and the doors slid to a stop and rebounded open.

I stepped in and was surprised the young bride, the one I had been unkind to, from earlier was standing there alone.

"You again." She sadly called out and pressed the button to take us up. "Going up?" She asked as the doors started to close.

I just nodded and stared ahead. Now my anger had calmed considerably, I felt ashamed about how I had behaved.

My mother, if she'd seen me, right after she'd finished chopping Elvis' balls off for what he did, would quickly have turned to doing the same to mine for my ungentlemanly behaviour. That was not how she'd brought me up.

The lift rocked to a shuddering halt, a grinding noise, a brief period of darkness then stillness.

"You've got to be having a giraffe mate." The young bride said as she bashed the control pad with her hand frantically.

I moved forward. Taking command.

"I'm fairly certain hitting it like that isn't going to help." And I reached out and gently pulled her hand back.

"Watch it mate." She spat out as she snatched herself away from me.

"Sorry." I mumble. Annoyed now at how I'd behaved, both before and now. Slightly hurt at the way she looked at me. Though not understanding why.

We stand patiently once I press the lift alarm and wait. There's no telephone, no communication pad. Just a red button and the expectation that we should wait out.

Time passes, minutes and minutes. The lift is small, and the heat is building. I move to loosen my jacket. Mindful I only have a tight sleeveless vest on underneath. Standard issue, and potentially, not the best look in polite company. That's me always the one to make the right impression I scoff to myself. Except when breaking a bride heart, I muse.

"Do you think they know we're here." She asked quietly.

"Probably." He answered back, a bit too sternly. Then looking at her he asks. "God don't tell me your claustrophobic." The words come out rather sharply.

"No." She replied with determination. Shaking her head at him. Then added. "I'm not. But you're still a wanker."

The words were said under her breath. He turned unsure her heard her right. Then watched her and took her in. Of course, she'd be worried, disappointed, sad. It was her wedding day after all and she was stuck here in a lift with a very rude stranger.

"I'm sure we'll be out soon." He tried more pleasantly. "You'll make it to your wedding."

The heat was starting to become unbearable and he checked his watch. There had been stuck for just under ten minutes. For both of them it had seemed longer.

"Besides." He tried to joke. "Aren't brides meant to be fashionably late?"

She grinned, softening and when she did, he realised just how beautiful she was. Her eyes quite startling. Features about her he'd never seen because of his anger and haste. He thought whoever was going to marry this girl, well he was a lucky man.

"Yeah. Well maybe it's a sign." She let out.

He was going to ask her what she meant, but just then shouts drifted down to them.

It wasn't the best news either of them had heard. The lift they were told didn't seem to be just temporarily stuck, it was worse than that. A major power cut over the whole town had outed everything. The Town Hall was being evacuated and they were to prepare to be stuck for a few hours or so.

He heard the news and was dismayed. Today had been the worst. He wanted to forget all about it. He'd expected her to be upset, vocal, after all she was going to miss her own wedding, so when he turned, he expected the worse. What he saw surprised him.

She was smiling.

"You ok?" He asked. Concerned she might have been in the verge of hysteria.

"Couldn't be better mate. Could not be better." She grinned back as she pulled the wilted flower arrangement from her hair. Throwing it on the floors. "Lady Luck was smiling on me, today wasn't she?"

"What?" He was amazed. He thought a bride stuck in their lift on their wedding day was anything but lucky.

"Lady Luck!" She went on "You know? Fate and that. Answered me bleeding prayers. Didn't she?"

"Thought you'd be upset. Missing your wedding." He asked, amazed. "Are you sure you're ok!"

"God yes!" She pulled another layer of her decorations out and her hair fell down her shoulders. Her smile, her cascading long hair momentarily mesmerised him. "I'm Molly by the way." She offered her hand. "Molly Dawes."

He took it a bit too eagerly.

"Charles. Charles James." He offered back.

A giggle escaped from her. Then she looked bashful.

"Sorry. Just Charles and that... sounds a bit posh." The cocking her head at him muttered. "Guess you are though."

The past couple of hours had been awful for Charles, he had little sense of humour left in him. Yet her laughing at his name for some reason didn't make him cross. He liked it, like her giggle, and even smiled back at her.

"That's ok." He replied. Forgiving her. "God it's hot."

"You must be sweating in all that." She waved her hand over his uniform.

"Could say that." As he unclipped the ceremonial sword and went to sit down on the lift floor.

She joined him and when she was settled, he noticed she wasn't that bothered about her dress getting dirty, he looked shyly at her.

"So, Lady Luck?" He asked. "What's that all about?"

She spent a moment of two considering. Wondering how honest she could be with this handsome stranger.

"Didn't want to get married, did I?" She confessed. "Had to."

"Oh!" He answered. Then again said. "Oh. Well I mean shit. Are you ok then?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be." She truly questioned him. "Dodged a bloody big bullet today I reckon."

"Good for you." He offered encouragingly. "Besides plenty of women do it on their own. Bring up kids and that." He offered.

"What?" She shrieked back. "I ain't pregnant mate if that's what you're thinking."

"Sorry." Charles muttered out. "When you said you had to... I just presumed. Sorry."

"That's all right." They slipped onto an uncomfortable silence.

Molly didn't mind. It gave her the chance to watch him. He was a pleasure to behold. He was young, but older than her she reckoned. Stunning in the looks department. Mid to late twenties, and with what seemed to her to be the weight of the world on his shoulders. He even, now the angry side seemed to have gone, appeared to be an alright guy. Well out if her league, she knew that, but she could dream.

"So what? You're in the Army or something." She asked, then giggled. "And not a stripper?"

"Yes. Amy or something." He replied. "And no not a stripper." He strangely found that he wanted to know more about her, but was unsure how to ask. "You?" Was all he came out with.

"Me? A stripper?" She smiled, but then seeing his disapproval changed her answer. "And no, I'm not bleeding Army?" She spoke with amazement in her voice. "I don't think so mate."

"No. I just meant what is it you do?" He stared at her, her hair almost the colour of straw, unnatural, wrong for her, but her eyes, her eyes were perfect. He'd never been so entranced by someone's eyes before. "Anyway, why not the Army? What wrong with it?"

"Nothing." She smiled back. He had a strange way of looking at her. "Just never thought."

Again silence. He checked his watch. It had been over half an hour and the building heat saw him stand and take off his uniform jacket. He smiled slightly to himself as he caught her checking him out from the corner of her eye. He sat down closer to her this time, but still a comfortable distance apart.

He was worried he'd stink, after all the nervous energy, and the running he'd done today. The heat of the small metal box they were tapped in would soon become unpleasant if he stank it out with his sweat. Whereas all he could think of was just how fresh she smelled. No heavy clawing perfume most brides chose on their wedding day, just a clean crispness about her. He liked that, liked that a lot.

"And you?" She asked. "Married?"

"God. No." He laughed out. "Was. But now not."

"So, what you doing here today then Charles? You were royalty pissed off before." She asked.

"Yeah sorry about that." Then he turned to her, something compelled him to want to talk to her. "Had to tell a bride the groom wasn't coming. Not my finest hour." He confessed.

"Shit." Was all she said.

"Indeed." He replied back. "So, what about your groom?" He cautiously asked. "Will he be ok?"

"Artan?" She looked surprised. He'd never even crossed her mind. All she'd known is that she wasn't marrying him today or any other day. How he was feeling never came into it, reinforcing just how little she cared. "He's probably down the Duke of Windsor hitting on me bridesmaids." She laughed. She no longer cared.

He looked appalled. She continued.

"Look we weren't loves young dream and that. Don't know if I even liked him. So, I doubt he'll care." She explained.

He again said nothing. It was all too complicated and he didn't care. Oddly all he cared about was the here and now, something he hadn't felt for years.

"It was me Dad you see. He was forcing me to marry him."

"Shit Molly. I'm sorry." He finally said. He looked at her with such sympathy and horror she felt inclined to tell him the whole story.

He'd never heard such a tale before. Something from a Jeremy Kyle show he thought. Thinking his day had been complicated and hard, it was nothing compared to what Molly, or even he guessed Georgie was going through. Whereas with Georgie, someone he'd known for the past year as Elvis' girl, he felt sad for her. However, with Molly, the girl he'd known for a matter of hours, hearing her tale, all he wanted to do was to protect her. It was odd. It was so not like him. Since Rebecca he'd remain uninvolved with anyone. Hearts broke too easily and he wasn't willing to risk that again.

"So, what now Molly?" He asked.

"Don't know. But I do know I ain't ever being bullied again by them again." She paused to think. "I guess I'll have to leave home. Me Dad won't put up with me forever."

"You got anywhere to go?" He asked. Suddenly very concerned for her.

"Not really. Me Gran's couch for maybe for a few nights, but that about it." She grinned at him, but he saw it was false. "Don't worry about me mate. I'll survive."

He smiled back. "You know Molly I bet you will."

Suddenly just as they had stopped earlier the lift now restarted. Cool air rushing in as the door opened on the ground floor.

They both stepped out cautiously.

He knew no one would be waiting for him. He watched her though look around for a familiar face among the lift repair team.

"Anyone here to meet you?" He asked as he saw her face drop.

"Nah. Don't look like it." She offered back. Feeling abandoned.

"How you getting home?" He asked. Sad they were to say good bye, for some reason this brash girl had gotten under his skin.

"Don't know." She admitted then looked down at herself. "I ain't got any money on me. No pockets you see."

He kicked his heels and he readjusted his jacket and reattached the sword.

Suddenly she spoke, coming to a decision.

"Gonna look a prize prannet I guess but I'll have to use the tube or walk."

"The tube?" He asked. Confused. "Thought you had no money?"

"Yeah, well, I don't, but there's ways. If you know what I mean." She winked at him conspiratorially.

"No Molly. No." He understood. He moved outside with her and saw it was raining. "You can't walk anyway. Let me shout you a cab."

"You can't do that." She smiled at him. "Thanks though." Touched by the kindness of a stranger, when even her own family hadn't cared enough to see her home.

"Yes, I can, and I bloody will." He stretched out his hand to hail a taxi. "It will make up for me being such an unpleasant wanker before." He smiled back at her.

She giggled. "Didn't think you heard." She answered back.

The taxi pulled up and he guided her into the back seat, and heard her shout out her address to the cab driver. He estimated the distance and handed over the money.

She leaned out of the window as it started to pull away.

"Thanks." She shouted at him. "It was nice meeting you Charles James."

He stood and watched the taxi pull away. His hand raised in a farewell gesture.

"And it was really nice meting you too Molly Dawes. Really nice."

And then he turned away, full of the memories of the bride who never was, with the most captivating green eyes he'd ever seen.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thank you so much for the reviews! Greatly appreciated and we're glad you are enjoying this little experiment as much as we are x**

-OG-

6 months later

"They say a woman who changes her hair is about to change her life"

I'm smiling like an idiot because the hair dresser was abso-bleedin'-lutely right! I'm changing my life, step by step.

"Wait!" I almost shout (definitely shout) out of both excitement and nerves.

"I've changed me mind. I don't wanna go a different shade of blonde. I wanna go back to me roots - chestnut brown! And I wanna cut it! You know like all the celebs have it, a lob I think they call it?"

The hairdresser smiles back at me, I'm sure she's more than used to muppets like me changing their minds last minute.

"I feel like you've got a story to tell Molly"

"I wouldn't even know where to start. But I know where I'm gonna end"

It had taken all of my courage to face the fall out, courage I didn't even know I had and I nearly didnt find. Nearly went home and told Dad to rebook it all like the good little girl I'd been playing for so long.

The fighting, the shouting, the fear and upset it caused for the little bleeders and me mum had nearly derailed the courage I found during that cab ride home. The courage I gained from feeling Lady Luck was shining on me that day. The courage I needed to take control.

The way Dad had tried to hurt me and physically sling me out as I packed me bag to leave all by myself finally flipped a switch in mum. She finally saw red, finally realised that her kids deserved better. That she deserved better! When her and Nan found out the full extent of Dave's threats, well that was the finally nail in his coffin. She too decided it was time to take back her life and Nan decided he was gettin' lobbed off the nearest bridge into the path of an artic lorry on the M25 in one of her dodgy mate Eddie's cheap rugs.

"Nice innit, all this pampering" Mum whispers from the chair beside me, still not used to a small luxury like getting' her hair done.

"We deserve it mum!"

Things have finally turned a corner in the Dawes house. What with me AND mum now working in the supermarket with plenty of help from Nan and Bella on babysitting duties. Our bills are actually being paid on time and there's always food in the fridge, a first us. We are finally free of the dead weight that is Dave Dawes.

The kids are happy, happiest I've ever seen them actually. And Mum is like a new woman. She's even started taking extra care of herself and she's got new found confidence since losing her ball and chain.

Me on the other hand, well I'm still only half happy, there something missing from me life – not quite sure what it is yet, but I know it's something important. And no, it ain't bloody Artan.

I can honestly say I've never envisioned myself working in a supermarket but it's an honest day's living and it ain't gonna be forever. Just long enough to get us back on our feet and like Nan pointed out, I'm still young enough to do whatever I please - the bonus is I've made some decent friends. Friends who most definitely wouldn't shag my bloke when my back is turned.

Speaking of Artan, I dodged that bullet in more ways than one. Never even saw him again after the registry office. Once Dad had made his frantic call to let Artan know his 'little trollop of a daughter' weren't going to marry him, he called off the deal and did one. Still, it's something that plays on my mind since though. It was just too easy to get rid of him but I'll rolled with it, because what bleeding choice do I have?

On the whole life is finally looking up.

Something else that played on my mind, or rather someone was Charles James -The impossibly handsome wanker who in the end turned out to be not much of a wanker at all. He'd saved me trotters and quite possible a trip to the cop shop that day by shouting me a cab but not only that, he'd probably saved my life. He planted the seeds of doubt I needed to make me see that what I was doing was wrong. An outside influence that really shook me awake.

If I was being completely honest with you, I would say that I spend approx 98% of my time thinking about him and those chocolate brown eyes and the way his toned, tanned arms looks when he took off his jacket. Not forgetting those rather large hands and what they could do to a woman but not just any woman, what they could do to me!

I close my eyes as the hairdresser begins cutting away the years of dried out, bleached out hair that was now a metaphor for my old life. Gone!

"Don't open until I'm done" she's squealing now.

I keep me eyes shut as per happy's request and take a moment to call on Lady Luck to bring Charles my way once again. Or at least a suitable body double – must have the hands though.

"Open" she squeals at me once more – maybe she's a bit mental?

I've never really taken any pride in my own reflection. I mean, I know I'm not ugly but that's all I've ever really had to say on the matter. There's never been anyone who's made me feel beautiful like what you see on the telly when the get goes all soppy after a compliment. Love like that don't exist for girls like me.

I actually have to do a double take at me reflection. I'm all glossy dark locks worthy of one of them cringe hair flips and shiny enough to send light beams into space. But it's my eyes that really catch my attention ... they're sparkling again. Haven't seen them do that in a long time! I look like a new woman.

"I love it" I'm crying now like some muppet but no one could truly understand how much this means to me except me mum who's also crying like an idiot.

"That's my girl" she chokes out, grabbing my hand, giving a gentle squeeze and I only realise now that she's started to show me affection again, how much she didn't before and how much I've missed it.

Tears, thank you's and handing over hefty wads of cash over with, we're now off for a posh lunch, and by posh I mean the Whimpy but we're actually gonna pay instead of doing a bunk on Dad's orders. That's only if they've forgotten that we're barred thanks to dad.

My eyes are accidentally drawn to the camo clad idiot standing on the high street. Don't he know he'll get a kicking for looking like that round here?

"It's rude to stare" he barks – wanker!

"Weren't staring at you so piss off"

He seems amused more than antagonised and thrusts one of his leaflets under my nose.

"No thanks mate. I dodge enough shootings round this shithole with volunteering to have me nut used as target practice an' all"

Imagine me in the army? Imagine if I had one of them big fuck off swords that Charles had. Can think of a few twats I'd teach a lesson with one of them bad boys.

He's moved onto his next victim and it irks me that he didn't try harder to persuade me, like I'm not good enough for him to waste his sales pitch on.

"Oi"

Thats got his attention.

"Did you just fucking Oi me?" He's seething now.

"And what if I was interested in joining?"

"You're not!"

He's right, I've got no interest in joining to be honest. I just am a bit interested in knowing about the army since actually meeting a fully fledged, sword carrying soldier in such circumstances.

Mums gobsmacked as I follow me new mate (who I think is trying to avoid me now) into his shop. All seems quite interesting, this army business. Might even use any new skills I could acquire to bump of Artan if I ever see him again.

I'm casually browsing the 'literature' what this posh twat soldier calls his leaflets and then I see him. Mr Tall, dark and Handsome - the poster boy of her majesty's army.

"That's Captain Charles James, his medals speak for themselves. One of the British army's finest officers" he informs me but I already know exactly who he is. His face has been playing on my mind for some time now.

"Cor I'd sign up if they all look like him" mum's dribbling too.

I can't take my eyes off him. I need to find Charles James. Even if it's just to thank him for making me realise I was about to ruin me life. With the fear of sounding like a raging stalker, the need and the urge to know him is breathtaking.

The few words written under his photo had the power to end that dream.

'Currently deployed in Afghanistan'

Well that's just shit ain't it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

First, she didn't recognise the girl in the supermarket checkout, but the girl apparently recognised her.

"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed.

"It's me?"

She examined the girl more closely; the shiny, chestnut hair, cut in a trendy lob, the heartshaped face with large green eyes and a friendly smile. A bell rang, but she couldn't quite place her.

"We met before", the girl eagerly continued. "At the Town hall, on your wedding day, in the toilet. Remember?"

Now Georgie remembered the other bride who came in there right when her heart was breaking. When she was crying her eyes out because her world was falling apart, but the girl was obviously sensitive enough not to mention that. The other bride's hair had been a hideous, almost yellow blonde then, the colour she had now was much more becoming. In fact, she looked radiant now compared to on her wedding day.

"You were the other bride?"

"I was. Never got married though."

"Neither did I."

They stared at each other and strange enough, Georgie felt some kind of bond with this girl working in the supermarket checkout, one which she felt a sudden urge to explore further. There was a long line of people eager to pay behind her, so now wasn't a good time to talk, but she felt she would really like to. Maybe share what had happened to them both that day.

"This may seem strange, but would you want to meet up for a coffee after you finish work? Have a chat?" she spontaneously asked.

"Okay", checkout girl said, smiling. It didn't seem like she found the request odd at all. "I finish at 1, so we can meet up outside then."

Georgie nodded and it was decided. She paid for the packet of Tampax which was the reason for this detour to the nearest store and left.

She had been in the neighbourhood for work, given a lecture about life as Army medic at the nearby Army recruitment office, but that job was done and for an hour she walked around aimlessly. She had time to regret her impulsive proposal many times. Why would she and that girl have anything in common, just because they were brides to be, that never were on the same day? It seemed impolite to bail out when she had been the one who asked to meet though, so at 1 pm she found herself waiting outside the supermarket.

"Hi there."

The girl, now in skinny jeans and a knitted jumper instead of the red work uniform, reached out her hand. Her wide smile made Georgie feel a bit less apprehensive. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"I'm Molly."

"I'm Georgie."

"I know a nearby place we can go to, it's just down the street."

They walked the short distance to the café in silence, like they needed to sit down before starting the conversation for real. Minutes later they each had a cuppa in front of them, both preferring tea over coffee as it turned out.

"So", Molly said. "You didn't get married either, eh?"

"No." The thought of it still made Georgie choke. The day that turned out so very different from what she had expected. Dreamed of. Hoped. She felt tears prick on the back of her eyelids and knew she couldn't hide her pain.

"I take it that you wanted to? Get married I mean."

"I did. Didn't you?"

"No, saved by the bell you can say."

Confused Georgie stared at Molly, suddenly wondering if she had done the same terrible thing to her bloke that Elvis had done to her. She had to ask.

"Did you jilt your guy at the altar?"

"Don't look so appalled, it wasn't like that." Molly's smile was disarming and it was difficult to imagine she would do such a nasty thing, but then again Georgie never thought Elvis would either.

"I never wanted to marry him in the first place."

"Then why? And don't you think it's a bit shitty not to tell him until your wedding day?" Georgie couldn't stop her upset feelings from shining through.

"I was forced to marry him", Molly snapped, a little sharper than she had intended. "Sorry, I just don't think I deserve you being all judgmental about it. You and I obviously come from very different worlds. In mine, my dad made a deal which involved me getting married to a guy I didn't love."

"For real?"

Molly nodded and went on to tell Georgie the horrifying story how her father had bullied her into agreeing to marry, not to lose her family. Only a rude, handsome stranger and a power cut saved her from going through with it. She told it all with such self-distance and humour that Georgie found herself crying with laughter. She loved the way Molly was able to turn her dark tale into something bright, especially the end of it; how the women of the Dawes household joined forces and kicked the villain dad out, taking charge over their lives and now were happier than ever. A new beginning rather than an end and Georgie was fascinated.

"And your fiancé?"

"Haven't seen him since that day. First I thought I simply was very good at avoiding him, but then I heard he is behind bars over some dodgy car deals."

"Lucky for you. Hope he stays there for a good while then."

Both sipped on their now tepid tea.

"Now, tell me what happened to you? Why were you crying in the toilet that day and why didn't you get married?"

Georgie knew she was unable to make her story light and funny. It was just sad.

"Unlike you, I was to marry the love of my life, or so I thought he was. I was so happy, so in love. There wasn't one single sign... When we met the day before the wedding everything was fine and he seemed to look forward to it as much as I did."

"But then, what happened?"

"Elvis just didn't show up, never came. He sent his best man to tell me he couldn't go through with it. No other explanation and he couldn't even tell me to my face. He just disappeared. Left me there alone to tell everyone it wouldn't happen. There wouldn't be a wedding between him and me that day, or any other day. It was the most horrible day of my life. I loved him, he let me down and everyone was there to see it."

"Shit, Georgie. I'm so sorry." Impulsively Molly grasped Georgie's hand and squeezed it to comfort her. "Did you hear from him afterwards?"

"Not first, not during the weeks, months when it was all I wanted. Then out of the blue he texted me one day and asked if we could meet up, but I said no. It was too late for whatever explanation he might have, I had started to mend, tried to move on. I felt seing him again would only take me backwards. I changed number after that so he couldn't contact me anymore."

"Good for you, I can't imagine he could have anything to say that would excuse what he did."

"No, neither can I. The more I thought about it, I felt no reason would be good enough. Worst thing is, mum and dad warned me. He was known to be a player and a maverick when we met, but I was so sure he had settled with me. Sure that he loved me. When it turned out as it did, I could see 'I told you so' written all over their faces even if they never said it out loud. It made me feel even more like a total looser for loving him and being abandonned."

"I'm truly sorry, nobody deserves that. He really must be a prized arsehole."

Georgie giggled. It was the first time she managed to laugh at the misery. Somehow Molly made her feel lighter at heart.

"Yeah, a prized arsehole he is. Anyway, I'm glad to hear your non-wedding day was better than mine. You're the lucky one of us."

"I don't know if I'm the only one lucky in the end. Think of it, would you really have wanted to be married to a guy who could do such a thing to you? As he could, did you really know him as well as you thought you did? What if he had let you down once you had kids instead? That would be even worse. Maybe Lady Luck was smiling on you too, though it didn't seem like it at the time."

This made Georgie smile again. Molly was so unbreakable and positive despite the shitty hand of cards life had dealt her. Georgie wondered if she even realised what a strength it was to possess such a mentality.

"I haven't thought of it that way before. Maybe you're right. Thank you for making me see it with different eyes. It still feels shit, but maybe a little less."

Georgie got this feeling, like this girl was someone she would like to keep in her life and suddenly she had an idea.

"This is a long-shot but... You see right before the wedding, Elvis and I signed the lease for an amazing flat here in London. We didn't have a place together before, it would have been our first home and we thought we were so lucky to get it. When he disappeared on me, I moved in alone. Couldn't stand to let it go, but reality is, it is too big and expensive for me alone and now I'm looking for a flat mate to be able to keep it. Would you be interested?"

"Me? Move in with you? Why would you want me? Sorry, but we don't know each other that well." Molly looked surprised.

"It was an impulse but I like the idea. I just love how positive you are and I think I'd like you much better than some random stranger. You already know my tragic past so I won't need to explain it."

Molly swirled the teaspoon around in her cup, for a moment taking in the proposal.

"I would love to move away from home, it's about bloody time I had my own place", she said pensively. "But it would be difficult for my family to manage without me. I'd like to say yes, but I have to say no."

"I see. Anyway, I haven't advertised it yet, so if you change your mind you could give me a call, come and see it. You would have your own room with en-suite bathroom."

Molly's face scrunched in a way that told Georgie she would die for a room that was just hers, plus bathroom!, but once again she chose to do something out of loyalty to her family. Not as bad as the situation she barely dodged, but still. She really was someone to count on when it came to her loved ones and Georgie hoped they realised how lucky they were to have such a daughter and sister.

"Thanks, I'll think about it."

Molly put the note with Georgie's scribbled number in her pocket, but Georgie had a strong feeling she wouldn't come around.

"I need to leave now, promised I would pick up my brother and sister from school today. If we don't meet again, good luck with everything Georgie. I hope we both end up happily married some day."

"So do I. Good luck Molly."

Despite that they only had talked for an hour and maybe never would meet again, they had shared an important moment and hugged each other goodbye. Georgie watched Molly leave through the café window and again smiled at the spring in her step. She looked like a woman who was at ease with her life. Not that she didn't aim for change, like that she would want a place of her own and in the long run another job, but she was also happy as things were. Anyone could see that.

* * *

I leave from the unexpected meeting with Georgie Lane, feeling light at heart. Her story made me realise something; that it's not what cards that life deals you that matters most, it's what you do with them. Take a girl like Georgie who seems to have everything from start; from what she told, she comes from a stable and loving middle-class family without any financial issues, she is obviously clever and kind and her beauty is indisputable. Then her fiancé pulled the rug away under her feet so she lost her way and now it is up to her how she moves on, if she choses to stay a bitter victim or dust herself off and move on to find happiness. Really, it's the same for all of us but some chose to only see the short end of the stick even there are more options.

I jump off the buss and walk towards the school where I'm to pick up Will and Jade. It isn't far from the bus stop but even closer if you pass through a small dark alley, which I always do, of course.

"Hey, Molly Dawes!"

Someone shouts behind me and I freeze because I recognise that voice and accent far too well. I turn around and there his unwelcome figure is. Not very tall but still threatening, due to the aggression he radiates.

"Hi Artan."

I try to sound light and friendly, try to keep my voice from trembling, but I'm very scared and my heart is pounding hard in my chest. Apparently, he is out of jail and now he has sought me out in a dark alley where there is no one but him and me. I'm thinking about screaming but he hasn't given me any reason to and I don't want to provoke him. It may be that no one would hear me anyway.

He stops in front of me, too close for comfort and I instinctively take a step backwards, but he follows.

"Hi wifey."

He raises his hand to touch my cheek and I can't help flinching. He squints his cold eyes.

"No wait. You never showed up on our wedding day..."

"Power cut, was stuck in the lift, you were gone..."

"And you were so sad that you came visiting me every day in jail, like the very devoted girl-friend you are."

His mocking voice contains a clear threat.

"I didn't, I'm sorry", I stutter, more afraid by the minute.

"But now we'll pick a new wedding date, won't we?"

I feel his foul breath on my face.

"If that's what you want."

I would have said anything to get out of this alley unharmed, but he has other plans.

"What I want?" he spits. "Do you think I want to marry a deceptive slut like you? No, but you will pay for what you did. You didn't stand by me when I needed you."

Suddenly he pushes me hard in the chest so I fall to the ground, lying on my back, and then I see him draw a knife. I see in his eyes this is it, he won't let me leave this alley alive. 'Who will pick up the kids?' flash through my panicked mind as he comes closer.

"Oi! What are you playing at?"

Two young men have miraculously appeared at the end of the alley. Startled Artan's gaze shift to them, then flick back to me, furious. He knows the game is lost, for this time.

"You're lucky this time Molly Dawes. You won't be so lucky next time I set eyes on you."

Then he runs and the two men come over and help me get up. They have saved my life for sure.

I should have known Artan wouldn't let me off the hook that easy, he has just been biding his time in jail and now he is coming for me.

* * *

"What are you going to do Molls? He'll kill you if you stay here."

Those not so encouraging words are uttered by Nan the evening after the assault. I know she is right.

"It's not about what Molly's going to do. It's about what _we_ are going to do, as a family sticking together", says mum and I have to give her a hug.

"Nan is right mum, I can't stay here in Newham. If I do, Artan will get me sooner or later. It doesn't necessarily mean the rest of you need to move though. Think of it; it isn't easy to find a place big enough for all of us to an affordable rent, plus Jade and Will would have to change school."

"What then, Molly? Finding a place where you can live alone isn't that easy either."

I suddenly come to think of something.

"Maybe it is."

I still have the note with Georgie's number in my pocket. Sometimes I think everything happens for a reason. Earlier today I couldn't possibly accept her offer even if I was dying to do so. Now it might be the solution to staying alive.

* * *

"Do you have any plans for this weekend?" Georgie asks from her lazy position on the couch.

I'm in an equally lazy position in the big armchair, as we watch Love Island and pick on the participants. It is one of our mutual sources of amusement in life.

We have shared flat for nearly two months now and get along really well. I truly like her. Despite that she is beautiful like someone out of a glossy magazine, she is very down to earth and very dedicated to her job. I was surprised to say the least, when I realised she is working for the Army. I never would have guessed. I had to bite my tongue not to ask her if she knows Charles James, I would feel really silly to do so for many reasons, number one being that he is totally out of my league.

I still think of him though, almost every day. There was just something about him, other than that he was gorgeous. It felt like we connected in that lift, but maybe that was all in my mind. Doesn't matter much since he is in Afghanistan. I wonder for how long.

Georgie's flat, which now is mine too, is the most beautiful place I have lived in. Not that our shabby council house is hard to beat, but this flat really is something, with large rooms where big windows let the light flow in. I love my room, I love my en-suite bathroom even more. Mum and I are working a few shifts extra to cover the cost. After all we lived of much less for many years so we get by. I continue to think of what else I could do than working in the supermarket and Georgie encourages me to enlist. 'There are so many options and they would be lucky to have someone like you' she keeps saying. I doubt that, but find the thought tantalizing somehow.

When we are home we often hang out together and sometimes we tag along with each other's friends for drinks or cinema.

"I only have plans for Friday evening, play pool with a few from work. You could join if you want to, or do you have plans already?"

"None for Friday. On Saturday I'm meeting up an old friend of Elvis'."

"Really? I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with anything related to Elvis?"

"I don't normally, but this guy is different. He always try to seem so stern and hardened but he's actually really sweet and a gentleman. I know he wants to check up on me. See if I'm okay. He was at the wedding so he saw me when I was completely devastated. He wondered if I would like to meet for a beer, but I was thinking I might invite him here for dinner. I'm not in the mood to go out for drinks with him."

"So, you want me to stay out of the way?"

"No, not at all. I was wondering if you wanted to join us? I thought that might lighten up things a bit. It's not like we have very happy memories to share."

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"Okay, if you insist." I smile but inside worry a bit for Georgie, wonder if it is the right thing for her to meet with this guy or if it only would open up her wound anew. Well, I will be there to look out for her and if he does anything to hurt her I'll throw him out on his arse.

* * *

**_A/N: With that handing over to Gemmadog to decide who will come for dinner and how that will turn out. And will the girls turn into BFFs or is there betrayal down the line? Did Elvis ditch Georgie for the same reason as always or was there something else? I can't wait to find out._**

**_/Miss P_**


	5. Chapter 5

Step by Step

Chapter 5

"For God's sake Fingers can't you do anything right?" He bent over him as tried to help him stand. Ignoring the pain to his own leg.

"Sorry Boss." He replied. "Didn't see you."

"Apparently. Or the fucking corner." Charles replied heavily sitting back down on the floor. The dull ache to his leg steadily increasing. Looking at the over turned vehicle that still buzzed happily along. Assessing the enormity of the fuck up that had just happened.

This day couldn't get any worse he thought. He sat and watched the blue tinge over Fingers' right eye developing, knowing their collision with each other was only going to end one way. A trip to the med centre and lots of questions asked.

"Who told you could drive that thing anyway?" Charles demanded. Knowing it certainly hadn't been him.

It was unbelievable. They had been UK side now for an hour at tops. Returning home after six months of incident free, dusty, hot, hell in Afghanistan, and within a gnat's breath of arriving back in the UK Fingers had pulled a stunt like this. It was not the start to his leave, or the end of his tour he'd quite imagined.

Charles had just spent the last six months with 2 section. Hard work. Thankless and repetitive at times but made just about tolerable as he loved his job and secretly enjoyed their company. To an extent, though he'd never admit it to them. The past 48hrs of travelling with this sometime, juvenile bunch however, at times, had sorely tested him.

Foolishly as he had stepped onto the tarmac at Brize he was planning his escape, breathing a sigh of relief that they had all returned safe and sound. There were, he knew a few jobs left to do, before leave started, and then he'd be free. Everyone pulled their weight. Desperate to get the jobs done. There was still kit and equipment to unload, then the dreams of home, a shower and normality once again for them all beckoned.

The final tasks almost done. It had all been going so well. That was until some idiot in their wisdom had allowed Fingers to drive the mini truck to help with the unloading. Too distracted, and in too much of a hurry he'd turned the corner too fast and tipped the bloody thing.

Sending him flying across the road, and its freed cargo crashing into Charles, as it skidded across the tarmac, knocking him of his feet.

The noise, the mess they where they were in, he knew would attract attention and help soon, the medics would be on their way. So, they did little to rectify the problem and both men slumped down to wait.

Fingers had the good grace to stay quiet. Knowing his Boss was royally pissed off with him. He'd tried to keep his head down, out of trouble but sometimes trouble just found Fingers. Just like it had today!

Quickly the medics arrived and assessed them. They were both taken into the med centre for a full check-up, which irritated Charles immensely. This incident interfered with all his plans. He still had jobs to do, plus he was fairly certain he was going to miss the transport back to their barracks, now his full-time home.

Usually he was free, with plenty of time on his hands, however this weekend, his first weekend home was going to be different. It was this very weekend where this interruption, change of plan, was going to be a huge inconvenience because for once he actually had plans. He was meeting someone he didn't want to let down, because she had been let down enough over the years, and she didn't deserve to be hurt anymore.

He was more surprised than he let on when she contacted him, when she had taken the first step. His interest though he had to admit piqued when she did.

That all important mail drop that soldiers looked forward to when on tour, brought her letter to him nearly four months in. He'd been surprised because the last time he'd seen her was when he broke her heart under Elvis' instructions. He would have guessed he was one of the last people she'd want to see, write to... well apart from Elvis!

Yet her letter was friendly, almost happy. It was a good read. Telling him of her news and asking about his. Chatty. That's how Charles would have described her letters. It surprised him too how friendly she actually was, as he'd only really met her a hand full of times, before that awful day, all with Elvis present. All their jobs taking the three of them off in different directions, so the get togethers as a group were fairly rare. Still, here she was making contact with him, and Charles in his boredom at nights found himself eventually replying to her. He had few people write to him, and few people to write to so he relished the activity.

They only wrote one or two letters each, but it was enough for Charles to feel comfortable about her. That the past was the past. He found that he strangely became excited at the anticipation of a letter from her. A huge grin spreading across his sun dyed face when she did reply. And so, in one letter he bravely suggested that when he next got home on leave, they might meet up for a drink. In all honesty he hadn't expected this beautiful, heartbroken girl to agree, but she did and plans were made. It was something he was looking forward too very much.

That is, he was enjoying having plans, and enjoying looking forward to fulfilling them, until Fingers and his Sterling Moss impression totally messed them up.

His life since the divorce hadn't been a happy one. He still saw Sam thankfully, but it was hard and not as often or relaxed as he wished. He'd taken tours back to back, as a means of escape after the divorce, and now was suffering from missing a closeness with his son. Had lost a connection with his young son, and he knew he had to do something about it on his return.

This tour, finally opened his eyes to the car crash his life had become, and the anger he still held onto regarding past events. Only fully realising what he had, a son who he still had the chance to know, when he compared it against Elvis' life.

Elvis, the friend who Charles, initially after the wedding found hard to forgive. Disgusted with Elvis' actions, or lack of them on that day. Yet he did forgive, and much quicker than he actually thought he would. Being a friend, accepting an invitation to meet up for a drink months later, and siting patiently listening to the reasons why, the agony of the decision Elvis felt he had to make on the day causing his anger to be quickly replaced by his pity.

These two friends therefore kept sporadically in touch, as before, and once, as Elvis dropped into his world, en route to a mission, Charles had briefly consider telling him about being in touch with Georgie again. Yet for some reason he didn't. Unsure just whom he was protecting in the friendship.

"So, what's the verdict?" He sternly asked the attending medic.

"You'll live. Just bruising to your leg, foot and ribs." He looked at Charles as he slipped his exam gloves off. "You were lucky. You can go once I've got the paper work sorted." And then he left.

"So, Fingers you muppet? What about you?" Charles raised his voice over the thin material curtain that was expected to give privacy as well as having a soundproof ability! It didn't and of course Charles had heard every word the medics had said to Fingers just before he'd delivered his verdict to Charles.

"I'm good Boss." Fingers slipped gingerly off the exam couch and pulled back the curtain. "Sprained ankle, deep muscle bruise to leg, and probably a shiner or two tomorrow."

Charles merely nodded. Not too happy to chat. New plans had to be made now he wasn't being admitted with a broken leg!

He'd been told by a very scared young Private that the planned transport to barracks, with the rest of 2 section, had left without them. Charles couldn't contain his anger, which only increased as the timid Private continued that they were to be offered an overnight stay in a cheap hotel, courtesy of the Army, while waiting for transport tomorrow, or to make their own way home. Therefore, to Charles was little choice. After months on tour a night in a cheap hotel not too appealing, not when he'd made other more entertaining plans. Plans now he'd been medically cleared he very much wanted to keep.

"So, Boss?" Fingers asked cautiously watching his CO's stern look as he was lost in thought. "You heading back to barracks?"

"Err. No. Actually no." Charles had made up his mind. He was going to keep his date with Georgie. He was going to catch the train, check into the Victory Service Club, clean up and then meet up with Georgie. Do something normal. Away from the cockwombles company he'd been sharing for the past six months.

"No? Where you off to then." Fingers cheekily asked. Then catching Charles' looks felt certain he may have pushed his Boss too far with that question.

"Not that it is any of your fucking business Fingers, but London. Off to see a friend." Charles stood and picked up his kit. "You?"

"Heading to London too. Sir." He replied. "Off to see an old mate. Surprise like. Haven't seen them for months."

Charles weakly smiled. Feeling almost sorry for Finger's friend, and for himself. He knew what was coming next.

"We could travel together and that Boss." Fingers suggested happily.

Charles groaned, out loud, muttering under his breath.

"For fucks sake!" And walked off.

They shared the taxi to the train station, and once on the train, in Charles' eyes, unfortunately they found two seats together on the train. So, travelled up to London very much in each other's company. Finger's running a commentary as the train sped along. He listened with a semi polite smile, but after six months of sharing Charles desperately wanted some space, and peace.

Eventually after many long hours they arrived.

"So." Charles said walking towards the taxi rank as they left the station. "Have a good leave." It was a very definite goodbye statement from him.

Fingers stood and had that look. A look Charles had come to dread.

"Spit it out for fuck sake." An increasingly tired Charles said.

"Thing is Boss." Fingers confessed. "I've nowhere to stay like." He looked down at his dusty fatigues. "Plus, can't turn up looking like this can I?"

"Come on." He offered. Knowing he hadn't escaped this Private's company just yet. "Oh, and Fingers." He warned. "Shower, shave, change of clothes. Then you're gone. You're not sharing my bloody room beyond that. Do you understand?"

"Boss." Was his reply, attempting to mask his grin as he matched his CO's step.

Charles was determined that he wouldn't have Fingers' company all night. Besides he was certain Georgie wouldn't be too happy if he turned up with him in tow. Like Charles, 2 section had been there that day, and had witnessed Georgie's humiliation. So, he doubted she needed his company as a further reminder. Tonight, was strangely too important to both of them to fuck it up with memories of the past.

Fingers jumped into the cab Charles had summoned, and off the went as Fingers muttered confidently.

"Won't need to Boss. Stay over like. Doubt she'll be able to resist my charm and that. Who knows might get lucky?" And he chuckled away at the face Charles pulled.

Several hours later both men quit the club. Both showered, shaved and dressing much less like the soldiers they were, and more fitting of a man about town. A strange friendship had emerged as they both had enjoyed the luxury of unlimited hot water. Chatting through the hotel bathroom room walls, while separately washing away the Afghan grim, and preparing for their nights. Their conversations touched on many subjects over a couple of eagerly awaited beers, and they discovered that both where heading in the relatively same direction.

Charles paid the cab as they both got out.

"Have a good night." Fingers shouted as they eventually parted.

Charles watched him go. Confidently. He seems to know his way around that area of London well, and soon he left Charles standing alone. Just as he had wanted to be for so long. Setting off in the direction of Georgie's flat with an odd mix of anticipation and a tinge of guilt about the happiness he felt going to see his best mate's ex girl.

He was unsure at first. His bearings a little off. He'd never been to her flat before, and doubled checked the address she given him. She recently moved in, even though she'd bought it ages ago when her plans were different. A life time ago he thought.

He was nervous, he knew that and wondered why. The beers not settling his nerves as he had hoped. It had been a long time since he'd seen her. The last time though it hadn't left him or her with happy memories. Although she'd been in touch, actually seeing each other after all his time, he feared may still prove to be difficult for them both. But still he felt he owed it to her too try.

It was last minute thing. Something his mother always instilled in him. Good manners she said cost nothing, or in most cases very little. Educating him that he should never to turn up as a guest empty handed. And so, with her mantra in his head, as he passed the supermarket, he ducked in and began his search.

He wandered the aisles for inspiration, not wanting to choose the traditional gift of flowers. Slowly enjoying the solitude, the tranquillity of the process, despite the supermarket being relatively busy. He spent longer than he expected just looking and picking up stuff from the shelves. Six months of not being in a supermarket, six months of not having such a convenience on your door step made this first visit in a long time a novel experience, and he enjoyed the grounding it gave him.

Suddenly he noticed the time. Manners... he could hear his mother say again. It's bad manners to be late. Cursing under his breath he rushed to the flower stall and in a panic grabbed what he thought were the best bunch of the lot. There were slim picking this time on a Saturday night, and he was unsure what she'd like. He felt foolish, and in his embarrassment abruptly turned without looking.

Smack. He was floored again. Unceremoniously on his backside once again.

"I don't believe this." He grumbled. "Twice in one day." And he winced as his bad leg ached even more than it had been.

"Shit. Sorry. You ok?" The beautiful girl who was sat almost underneath him said.

He untangled himself from her as best he could. She was tiny and light, an easy form for this strong soldier to handle.

"Here. Sorry. Yes." He offered her his hand. "My fault. You ok?"

"Yeah. Just me pride I think." And as she stood and brushed herself, she giggled.

He watched her. She obviously worked there. He noticed closer that she was a small, young petite woman, who had beautiful green eyes, and shoulder length brown hair. She seems so familiar to him, but he struggled to place her. Try as he might. Running through each memory she possibly would invoke, but each time drawing a blank. Finding no memory of her anywhere.

"Are you ok?" She watched him closely as he limped to pick up the flowers that too had also gone crashing to the floor. Amused at his reaction to her, almost seeing the struggle he was having to place her.

"Yeah. Just bit of a sore leg. That's all. Second time today I've been clattered into." He smiled.

She noted his cheeky smile, again, and found it hard to resist. Smiling her best smile back at him.

"Do you need to sit down or something?" She asked.

"Nah." He said. "I'll just pay for these and then I'll be on my way."

She was disappointed, and that surprised her, but taking his money, completing the sale she said no more and just watched him turn and limp away.

"Oi. You'll not get a bus at this hour." She shouted at him. "Not from that stand anyway."

Molly's shift had finished. She'd done extra hours and despite half promising to be back home early to meet Georgie's guest, she hadn't been able to leave in time to do that. The money too good, and her interest in yet another of Georgie's male friends not exactly high. So now it was late and she was on her way home when she spotted him waiting at a dis-used bus stop.

His head shot up when he heard her yell at him. He'd been too engrossed texting on his phone.

"What?" He looked at her. Again, wondering where he'd seen her before. Then understanding what she was saying. "Shit. No bloody bus?"

She walked over to him.

"No sorry. You'll have to Uber it mate." She smiled. "If you can get one this late."

"Really." He looks at his watch. "It's not that late?" Then realising it was, went on. "Shit." His time day dreaming and mulling over the past had caused the hours to slip away from him.

It startled him realising the time. Knowing that since leaving the supermarket he hadn't rushed to her flat as arranged, as he though he'd do. Instead he just taken himself off and sat in the closest bus stop and thought. Lots of doubts crossed his mind. Wondering if seeing her again, after all this time was really the right thing to do.

"Look I'd offer you a lift and that but..." She smiled at him. "Don't have a car and don't drive." Then giggled. "I walk everywhere." He found her laugh such a happy sound.

"Thanks." Then looking up from his shoes he turned to her. "Maybe I should offer to walk you home then." He smiled knowing his mother would be proud of his chivalry.

Molly shook her head.

"Nah it's alright mate. I know me way around. Beside with your leg and that I doubt you'll be able to manage."

He looks sadly at his ankle and leg.

"Might make you right."

"Still sore?" She asked as she watch him grimace as he shifted his weight.

"Yeah. Think I need some more painkillers too." He looked at her. "Left them behind didn't I!"

She reached in to her bag and handed him a packet.

"Here. Take these. Keep them." Then produced a new bottle of water and offered that to him too.

"Thanks." He said and he quickly swigged the tablets down.

"No problem mate." She smiled shyly at him. Wanting him to start noticing her, realising her.

"So? No bus." He laughed. "Just my luck."

There was then a pause and he played on his phone.

"You've been away?" She suddenly asked.

"How did you know?"

She considered her reply.

"Err. The tan mate. You're a bit too brown for this time of the year."

"Yeah. In the Army. Afghan. Six months." He replied.

Her heart beat a bit faster at his disclosure. She wanted to ask so many more questions, but didn't. Instead she let him talk.

"First night back." He went on.

"Good was it?" She asked noticing he'd finished ordering his cab on his phone.

He laughed.

"Not exactly. But yeah it was alright."

He was having fun. His first night back not exactly what he had planned but here he was sitting, chatting, quite easily, with a pretty girl. Life was quite good actually. After several shitty months, well years, sitting here with her was very nice indeed.

He realised then that he had made the right decision. That not meeting up with her tonight had been the right thing to do. He'd fired off a text to her as soon as Molly laughed that first time. Knowing that it was that sound that was making him happy and not the thought of seeing her again. The past was the past. The broken heart mended, and they both needed to move on. Beside he knew where his loyalty, his friendship really lay.

Then he did something he hadn't really though about and pulled out a pen from his pocket. Then grabbed her arm, scrunching up her coat sleeve.

If she was surprised, she didn't really show it. She didn't pull away. Just smiled at him as she watch him do it.

"My phone number. I'd like you to you know, call me." He offered as to the reason he was scribing on her arm. "If you want to."

"Oh." Was all she said too shocked.

His cab drew up, and taking another chance he stood to leave and dropped a light kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks for the pain killers." He said. Then turned and climbed in the Uber.

She stopped still. Her sleeve still rolled up; his kiss still fresh on her cheek.

He popped his head out of the cab and grinned at her as it pulled away. Liking how stunned she looked.

"Me name's Fingers by the way." He shouted as the cab roared off.

"Molly." Was what she whispered too softly for him to hear back.


	6. Chapter 6

I have an unexpected feeling of excitement in my belly as I watch his cab pull away. But 'Fingers' he calls himself... the mind boggles.

I haven't had this kind of feeling since that chance meeting with Charles and I honestly hadn't expected to again. I fire off a text to my new mate and surprised when the eager beaver texts straight back.

He makes me smile with some witty banter on the walk home making it seem much shorter than usual, although I'm walking much slower than I normally would in the hopes I'll swerve Georgie's guest entirely.

We text back and forth and it's light and easy conversation. Something that wasn't possible with Artan. There was always an undertone of aggression with him, whether that was face to face, over the phone or by text message, I always felt scared. It's what I came to expect and believe I deserved but after a lot of late night wine and girl talk with Georgie, I've come to realise that I deserve much more than I've ever been given in life. I deserve a nice bloke and I deserve to be treated right.

I let myself into the flat and am shocked to see Georgie fully clothed and dead to the world on the sofa. Maybe her guest never showed. Either way, mission to swerve him was a success.

I munch a bit of toast before heading to bed, still texting Fingers and still quite enjoying myself.

I shit myself as my phone starts ringing and fuck its loud when the flat's in complete silence.

"Hello" I whisper and can't help but giggle.

_"Haven't even said out yet and you're already laughin'... has to be a sign you should got for a drink with me?"_

I'm giggling again like some silly school girl and spend the night chatting like I've known him all my life. He seems different… care free and light hearted and that's exactly I need after Artan.

The sound of the birds singing signals it really is time for bed if I want to be any kind of functioning human tomorrow and I tell Fingers goodnight but he's reluctant to let me go.

_"If you agree to a date, I'll let you go to sleep Miss Molly"_

I feel the heat rising in my cheeks and the tell tail giggle gives me away once again.

_"I'll think about it... Good Night... Fingers"_

"I thought I heard you talking" Georgie barks in her gruff morning voice.

"Let me sleep in with you, it's freezing out there on the sofa - gave my mate the bed as he's injured"

She sighs heavily so I turn to face her, try to be a supportive friend even though fatigue now hits me like a tonne of bricks. "What's up?" I ask as I pull back to covers to invite her in bed with me.

"Tonight was a massive mistake... seeing him and talking. It just brought everything I've worked so hard to move on from back to the surface. You know… Elvis and that. He's his best mate, not sure what I thought I'd gain from it and he seems as regretful as I am, now the poor bugger is stuck here until the morning. Couldn't get a cab and I'd had one too many to drive him. With the leg injury he's carrying, I couldn't let him walk back to where he's staying. I fucked up thinking me and him could be friends. It's not possible."

"You didn't... You know, shag him did you?"

She snorts a laugh "God no. No, definitely not. It's all still too raw and like I said, he's Elvis' best mate. It's not like that. I think I just needed to feel close to someone that had the connection with Elvis"

Tears slip down her cheeks and it's not the first time I've seen her cry in all these months of friendship and being flat mates. Every time it's because of this Elvis wanker that I'll be sure to add to my shit list and if I ever do meet him, I'll give him a piece of my mind. Twat.

She's asleep within minutes but I can't seem to switch off. I'm both buzzing and knackered but the last few unexpected hours of conversation with Fingers play on my mind. I think I want to go on a date!

Eventually I must have drifted off into a happy sleepy bubble until the smell of bacon arouses me only a few short hours later. I groan, only a small bit regretful of my late night but it doesn't matter much as I'm off today.

I can hear that Georgie still has company so I make myself look decent before facing them.

I walk out to find her kneeling in a questionable position and stop dead in my tracks. Fuck, am I interrupting something?

"How was that?" She asked before climbing to her feet and I'm praying that death will come quickly or for the ground to swallow me up PRONTO!

"Yeah I think I'll live. Like I said, the medic says it's just bruised. I'll be fine in no time"

I do an awkward dance around the outskirts of the room hoping I'm no more noticeable than a fly or something but it's too late. She's spotted me.

"Ah Good Morning you. I thought the smell of bacon would wake you. Have some breakfast with us" She makes a pained face that tells me there is no choice in the matter, flicking her head towards the table letting me know where I'm needed to act as a buffer.

Her mate limps towards the table and he's all tall dark and possibly handsome now I'm dying to see the front of him. With a head full of dark curls that are just inviting me to run my fingers through, he resembles someone from a L'Oréal Men advert. I hope the face doesn't disappoint!

Georgie, ever the army medic continues to fuss over her injured mate and bends down into the same questionable position in front of him, this time to pull a tube bandage over his foot, which she promptly raises onto a chair leaving only one seat for me and that's dead opposite Mr Tall, dark & possibly handsome.

"Can never be too careful with your previous injury" she babbles awkwardly.

She serves up breakfast and after pouring myself a coffee, and trying to catch a glimpse of him in any shiny surface I can find, I admit defeat and park myself in my space to face the situation I had done so well to swerve last night.

"Molly this is..."

He lifts his face to look at me and those brown eyes from the lift stare back at me.

I'm mesmerised by the smooth, tanned arms once again as he lifts his sandwich to his mouth and I can pinpoint the very second that it clicks in his brain that we've already met and he knows exactly who I am despite the change of hair and now he looks like he wants to throw up into his breakfast.

"Charles. We've already met"

The awkwardness in his body language ceases instantly.

"Molly?"

He climbs to his feet despite his injury so I do the same and I'm shocked when he pulls me into a hug.

"I never thought I'd see you again! I've thought about you a lot since that day. Wondered how you were and if you were okay? You look bloody fantastic... new hair?"

He actually looks genuinely happy to see me and like I've saved him from the lions den and Georgie also looks relieved that she can finally take a break from being the hostess with the mostess. Meanwhile, I'm here thanking god that I took the time to put on a bit of Make up and didn't roll out here with my eye bags hanging out. I can't quite believe he's standing here in front of me after all this time.

"I owe you a massive thank you" I'm blushing now.

He bites his lip "You don't owe me anything, I'm just glad it all worked out for you, or at least it seems it has"

We're interrupted by Georgie awkwardly clearing her throat; I think she wants our visitor to jog on now. I leave them to their awkward exchange to answer my phone which seems to be beeping none stops – Fingers!

"_We on for this drink then? ;)"_

I agree to the drink because, why the hell not? Maybe this 'Fingers' will distract me from the now reignited obsession over Charlie boy who was way out of my league then and is even more out of my league now I've had an even better look at him. Wow!

"I'd best be off. Wouldn't want to outstay my welcome" he chuckles and gives awkward Georgie a last glance and a wave.

I hug him once again. "I meant it when I said I owe you a big thank you. You really don't know what you did for me that day"

He's about to say something before Georgie ushers him towards the door shaking her car keys at him. Subtle!

The happy bubble I'd found myself in since last night feels deflated. How can he have such an effect on me after all this time?

* * *

"Do you wanna know why they call me Fingers?"

I hold my hands up in protest before he says something we'll both regret.

"You're alright thanks mate. Why don't you start by telling me your actual name?" I try my best to at least sound interested even if my face says otherwise.

"Well me names Frankie but I've been Fingers for years now. I like to think of it as an alter ego. The man, the myth, the legend... Fingers"

I don't know if I'm laughing because he's actually funny or if he's just a bit of a prat that likes the sound of his own voice.

"I'm a bit of a legend within my section but for all the wrong reasons you see... longest serving Private without even getting within sniffing distance of a promotion. But I'm lucky with the ladies so that's all that matters"

I'm running through all the excuses in my head and wondering if Georgie will bail me out with an SOS call or if I can slip off unnoticed on my way to the bog. How did we go from having so much chemistry to this? When I woke up this morning, I felt so hopeful. I thought that maybe I'd get lucky and someone would genuinely like me but it would appear that it's not going to be ol' Frankie boy here.

I decide that after much suffering, (1 hour and 42 minutes to be precise) now is the time to make my escape. He stops to talk to some other poor unsuspecting girl, a blonde this time and while his back is turned I make a dash -Never knew I could move so fast. I suspect he won't be too gutted by my abrupt exit as I glance back and he's leaning in now, think that's him sorted for the night.

I begin the long but therapeutic walk home which I always use to gather my thoughts about events of each day. Despite this little blip getting back onto the dating ladder, I don't feel too terrible about it. A few months ago it would have knocked my confidence but I appreciate now that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince.

"Well if it isn't my little trollop of a daughter"

His voice chills me to the Bone. I quicken my pace in the hopes I can lose him, he's not in the best condition – he's obviously sleeping rough.

"What's the matter Moll? Got no time for your old dad? You've ruined my life and you can't even stop"

I turn to face him, it's time to stop running from the past.

"I didn't ruin your life Dad, you did with your drinkin' and the manipulating and trying to sell me off like a bit of meat. None of it was right. I need to live me own life and be happy and so does mum. She's better off without you"

His wounded expressions pains me even after all he's done over the years, he is still my dad after all.

"Please get the help you need. Maybe in the future when you're sorted then we could all get together… finally do some talking. But until then Dad, stay away from us"

He says nothing which is unusual for a gobby twat like him. I feel uneasy turning my back on him but the sooner I'm out of here the better.

I didn't hear him coming and truthfully I never expected him to sink as low despite all the years of letting us down and hurting us. He uses all his strength to shove me to the ground before doing a runner with my clutch bag. Everything seems to move at lightning pace as strangers gather round me, they attempt to pull me to my feet and offer to call the police but I don't want to move. This latest violation by him is just too much.

He pulls me to my feet, twice now he's appeared when I've been on my arse.

"Come with me" he says gently and I go because I trust him. He wraps his jacket round my shoulders, gently guiding me in a direction I'm not sure of.

"You're still limping, leave me here, I'll be alright" I sob. Tears are coming thick and fast now.

"No chance Molly" he says gently, tucking my hair behind my ear as his gives my face a once over for visible injuries and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears.

We end up back at his room where he gently tends to the superficial wounds my own dad has inflicted on me. His touch sends shiver down my spine. I don't actually think I've ever been treated so gently in life. I close my eyes, beginning to enjoy it, his touch and his smell. He's beautiful.

"You're making a habit of saving me Charles"

He smiles and continues the job at hand. I watch him for a moment and there is only concern in the depth of his eye. Something I've never known a man to show before.

"I think that's you all patched up" again his tone is gentle - I'm mesmerised by him.

Just him being here makes everything feel alright again.

"I best be going. Thanks though, for saving my bacon… again. You should rest that leg"

He looked down at the offending leg which he's now doing his best to avoid using and curses under his breath.

"I'm guessing that as he stole your bag, you've got no means to pay for a cab?"

Cringing here because this is indeed becoming a habit.

"Nah, but I'll walk. Not gonna bump into him twice in one night, not even I'm _that_ unlucky"

He shakes his head "Nope. Not happening! I either shout you a cab or I walk you home, either way I need to make sure you get there safely"

I agree to the cab because the poor bugger is limpy enough without me adding any to it further.

I tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek before I leave and there is a flicker of something in his eyes that I can't quite guess what it is. I watch him until he disappears from view and now I fully understand what lovesick feels like.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

I keep thinking about Charles after our latest chance meetings and him saving me again. How he cared for me in a way no man ever has before, how gently he touched me whilst patching me up. I want to know more about him, I want to see him again, but we never said we would. No phone numbers were exchanged. When I bring him up with Georgie, she is disappointingly discouraging even if she actually likes him in a strictly platonic way.

"Charles? If he's a good guy? I'd say so. I don't know him that well, but he has been nothing but decent and kind to me. If you fancy him I'd still say; don't go there."

"I'm _not_ saying I fancy him, but just out of curiosity, why not?"

"Because these Army guys, officers like Charles and Elvis, they will put the Army before _anything_. They have it in their blood, like a restlessness, a pull, or a disease if you will, that makes them think that living out of a bergen is the best kind of life there is. It's all they really want in the end. Elvis told me that was what caused the split between Charles and his ex-wife. Yes, he has been married, divorced now. _Charles_ thinks it was because she cheated on him, which in a way it was, but truth was she cheated because he never was there in body or mind. As for himself, Elvis said he never had even imagined a settled life before he met me. He convinced me that I had changed his mind, but I think that may have been what gave him cold feet when it came to it. Right before the wedding realising that he would be stuck with a wife and kids in a few years if he went through with it. His wings would be clipped forever."

"But you're in the Army too?"

"I am, but as much as I enjoy my job, to me it is just a job and not _everything_. I want more than that. I want a real home, a family. That is what it's like for many of us, but for a few, if they have to choose, the Army always comes first. That's why I say if you fancy Charles, try not to. I want to save you from a broken heart for giving it to a man who already has chosen the love of his life. I know for a fact Charles is one of those guys. If I hadn't thought so before, he also said it clearly the other night. That he tried marriage once and it wasn't for him so now he'll stick to what he knows; the Army."

I hear what she says. and it makes perfect sense to forget about Charles, yet there is a flutter in my belly that doesn't want to still, a whisper inside me that doesn't want to be quiet, telling me there is something about him that is just _right_.

By now I have also connected the dots; when I first ran into Charles and he was being such a wanker, he had moments earlier been forced to deliver the message to Georgie that Elvis wasn't showing up for his own wedding and seen her break apart. With that and a history of a divorce due to cheating, no wonder he was disillusioned when it came to love. I still remember his words; '_Only fools get married! Either the wedding day ends in disaster or there's a divorce down the lane anyway. Why don't you save yourself from that misery?'_

I _had_ saved myself from it that day, but it didn't mean I want to stay away from it forever, not if the guy is right. Charles still seemed to feel the same though, judging by what he said to Georgie. It doesn't matter anyway, because he is so totally out of my league.

"I'm sorry Molly."

"For what?"

"Because you're looking all sad now and I didn't mean to make you sad."

"I know you didn't and it's not only what you said. I don't even know Charles. It's just the thought that I don't stand a chance with a guy like him anyway, Army first or not. Not only him, _any _decent bloke is out of my league."

"I beg to defer."

"But it's the truth. I'm a magnet to guys like Artan, Fingers or other copies of my dad, the good ones will at best pay me a cab to go home safely."

Georgie smiled.

"I don't think that is true, but if you feel like that you need to change it."

"How?"

"By doing something that will boost your confidence. By changing something in your life so you think yourself worthy of the good ones. _I_ already think you are, but if _you_ don't think so yourself then they never will. If you think you deserve shit, then that's what will come your way. You need to appreciate yourself Molls, before any guy really can. That's what matters. So, we need to find a way for you to do that."

"Easier said than done."

"True but far from impossible. We'll figure it out together. If you really want something and give it all you have, there's no reason why you can't get it."

The way Georgie believes in me is truly encouraging. Bella, mum, Nan they all love me but believe people like us belong in the box we're born in. If Georgie believes I can do something like that to change my life and wants to help me, then maybe I can.

* * *

_"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Molly..."_

My eyes fill up with tears at the surprise. Happy tears. My friends, I suspect with Georgie in the lead, have arranged a surprise birthday party. For me! I shouldn't be so surprised because these days I have so many great friends who do nice things for me all the time. The kind of friends who have my back instead of stabbing it, who boost my confidence and take joy in my joy and aren't jealous when things go well for me. Still, it makes me touched when they once again prove it to me like this, surprising me with song, hugs, lots to drink and a big birthday cake where it is written; _Molly 24 years_.

Georgie had asked me to pop over to her and Jamie, her boyfriend for the past two years, here in their flat in Birmingham. I thought they wanted to celebrate me with a quiet dinner but was met by all my lovely friends. My life in a nutshell; just wonderful.

I was the one who moved from London to Birmingham first, after Georgie helped me to figure out what I wanted to do with my life and taking the first steps getting there. We had talked a lot about the Army and the different options there and then I mentioned to her that it was something of a dream of mine to become a nurse, but that it seemed unattainable, going to university and all. That was when she told me you can actually train to be a nurse through the Army and if you do there are plenty of different options open for you once you are ready, both in the UK and abroad. I objected my grades would never be sufficient to be accepted, but she didn't buy that, just said it wasn't a permanent state that couldn't be changed. She helped me to identify what courses I needed to take to improve my grades enough to be accepted, find and apply for evening courses I could take in parallel to my job at the supermarket and then continued to push me and help me with my homework. During that year, she did more for my schooling than anyone in my family ever has. She also helped me to build my confidence by making me realise I'm not an illiterate fool that can't be taught anything. When I had the possibility to focus more than I ever could in my noisy school and home, I did quite well both in Math and English.

In addition to all this, she helped me with my fitness. When you train to be an Army nurse, you start with the Phase 1 training that any recruit go through to become a soldier, before you start your 3-year university course. So, I didn't only have to prove myself clever enough, I also had to be fit enough to enlist and Georgie took it on herself to be my personal trainer. In one way, I think this "project" helped her get over Elvis, because she had something positive to focus on. She was so determined I wouldn't fail, pepped me, supported me and challenged me so I wouldn't give up. Charles James may have saved my bacon on two occasions, but no one has done as much for me as Georgie. It was sweat, blood and tears both physically and mentally during the months when I studied to improve my GCSEs and exercised in parallel. In the beginning I cursed under my breath because it was so hard, but as I grew stronger and became fitter, it got easier and easier. When I finally tried out for Phase 1, I passed. I almost couldn't believe it, but then I made it through Phase 1 and I was accepted to go on to training as an Army nurse. When I read the acceptance letter I realised for the first time that maybe all of this was true after all; I was well on my way to becoming a nurse. The following autumn I moved to Birmingham to spend 3 years at the Defense School of Healthcare Education.

I was sad to leave Georgie and the flat in London, but we stayed in close contact and often visited one another whenever she was posted in the UK. When she came visiting me over a weekend and we went to a bar, we ran into one of the young doctors that had been one of my teachers on the previous course, Jamie Cole. He was about the same age as Georgie, who is a few years older than me, handsome, clever, kind and charming in a quiet way. He and Georgie, who still was single, immediately hit it off and started dating. Georgie spent more and more of her free time in Birmingham and six months later Jamie asked her to move in with him. First, she hesitated, said she needed to think about it and I know it still scared her to take such a step after what happened with Elvis, but then something happened which tipped the scale in favour of Birmingham and Jamie.

When Georgie returned to London after one weekend in Birmingham, she found her flat completely turned upside down by burglars. Everything of value was gone and they had gone to lengths to demolish the rest. The strange thing was that it seemed like they had had a key to get in. They weren't the cleverest of thieves and the forensics managed to secure evidence which could be matched to some people already known in the police database; my dad and Artan! What a fine pair they are. It seemed like after Dave took my hand clutch, he had held on to my flat keys and bided his time trying to find out my address. He finally did, and I don't know if he knew I didn't live there anymore or not, but the temptation to lay his hands on some valuable stuff was too tempting either way. Too coward to go through with it on his own, he had contacted Artan and his friends. Artan, still as vengeful as ever had not been late to agree to break and enter, not only to steal but to ruin what he thought was my home. The police caught them and in addition to the evidence found in Georgie's flat, they still had much of the stolen goods and were sentenced to jail for a few years.

By then, Georgie had already moved in with Jamie. The demolition of the home she once had hoped to share with Elvis was like a final sign to move on, so she did. She had been so cautious after Elvis, but even if I never had met him I understood that Jamie was the opposite of him; stable, reliable, unadventurous and made always made her feel she came second to nothing. For the first time she trusted a man again and now, two years later they are engaged.

I have enjoyed my student years immensely. Not only on occasions like my birthday party tonight, but every aspect of it. I have met so many new friends and love the nurse training. I have dated a few guys and had my share of fun, but until a few months ago mainly focused on my studies because I want this so much. I want to be an Army nurse and I want to be a good one. Strangely, it seems like I'm in my right element and even if I have to work hard for it, everything has gone my way and so far, I have passed all my exams. Then unexpectedly, about a month ago, I met someone quite special and now I'm in the very early days of a relationship. It's rather a near-relationship, we don't call ourselves a couple yet and I haven't introduced him to my friends, so he isn't invited to my surprise birthday party even if Georgie knows about him. I miss him a little tonight and hope I can convince him to come over later and sleep in my bed.

The only thing that worries me a bit is that I'm approaching the end of my nurse training. As soon as that is finished, I will complete a short Transition to Military Practice Course, then be assigned to a Defense Medical Group Hospital to commence my preceptorship and rotation programme. It is not up to me to decide where I will be assigned and I even if I really like him, I'm not sure I would be willing to let that guide my choices even if I could. I want to go where I can be a brilliant Army nurse. He encourages me to do just that, but I think that he would be more pleased if I stayed than he lets on. Maybe this is why we haven't said we're _together_ yet, both hesitant to establish something we soon may have to break up anyway. It is a bit ironic because one of my motives for transforming myself, so I would feel self-respect, was to feel worthy of good guys, of true love. Now that I feel that I am, I want more than that and I know I may chose to leave him behind if that is what is required of me. I do wish he was here tonight though, it would have made my birthday complete.

* * *

"As a part of preparing you for what you can expect working out in the field, both at home and abroad, from next week and on until you graduate next month we will offer a series of lectures by external lecturers related to the Army in different ways", one of our teachers, Dr. Hammond tells the class. "Even if attendance is voluntary, I strongly advise you to listen to as many of these lectures as possible, to prepare you for the career ahead of you. The profession you have chosen means you will make the difference between life and death for many people. It is a great responsibility and it is important to gain insight in what that may be like."

As the eager student I am, I intend to attend all these lectures. The first lecture in the series is by a nurse who has been both to Afghanistan, working at the Army hospital in Bastion, and participated in different outreach projects. Her stories are fascinating and I'm more eager than ever to graduate and face reality.

"Who's up next week?" I ask my class mate Jane.

"Some scruffy old Major", she says. "Don't think that will be as exciting. He'll probably recite that dreary Flanders field poem and tell us about boring good old days."

I giggle at the picture she paints but still have every intention to participate. Next Wednesday is not my lucky day though. I get a late start because my near-boyfriend occupies the shower for so long and I can't help being annoyed with him, something which has happened a few times lately. I normally bike to class, this day no exception, but today when I'm halfway there the skies open and heavy rain starts pouring down. It only takes a minute and I'm soaked to the skin. As if that wasn't bad enough, I get a flat tire, have to walk the last bit when I park my bike and rush inside I'm inevitably late.

The lecture has already been going on for fifteen minutes when I open the big double doors that unfortunately are located at the front of the room, not the back. I feel the eyes of the entire auditorium on me dressed in dripping clothes. I try to ignore their stares and the pool of water at my feet and only search for the eyes of the guest lecturer, to apologize for the interruption and for arriving as a wet mess. Then our gazes lock and I'm unable to say anything at all, feel myself freeze and flush with an unexpected heat simultaneously.

Those brown eyes, even after all this time I would recognize them anywhere. He cocks an eyebrow and bites his lower lip, I get the feeling not to start laughing at me but maintain his serious lecturer image.

"Well, miss, that's quite an entrance."

"I'm sorry for the interruption, for being late", I stutter.

"I suppose I should be flattered you chose to come here despite the rain. I appreciate a keen and eager student", he says dryly and my cheeks heat when there is low laughter throughout the room.

He walks over to me.

"You look freezing, let me lend you this."

He wriggles off his jacket and offers it to me.

"Thanks, but really there's no need."

He leans closer and talks in low voice, almost a murmur and a warm breath of air next to my ear, so only I can hear.

"Trust me, there is, or the males in the audience won't listen to a word I say because they're busy staring at your lace bra."

Horrified I look down and realise my white t-shirt is not only glued to my body but also transparent, so everyone can see my white lace bra. He just smiles politely yet amused and put the jacket over my shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze, then return to his previous position. Embarrassed beyond belief I sit down on the first free seat I see.

_Major_ Charles James, hardly an old scruffy chap and I think the female part of the audience find it hard to focus on what he says because they are busy ogling him as he paces back and forth on the small stage. Probably they are slightly jealous of me for wearing his jacket. Secretly, I sniff it and it smells so good from some very manly yet discrete aftershave. Four years since I last saw him, and he looks just the same; as tall, as good-looking, probably his arms are just as toned under his well-fitting white shirt as they were that day in the lift. Does he remember or was it only my Miss Wet T-shirt entrance that amused him? I don't know, but I do know that I'm as mesmerised by him as I was before. The voice, the way he smoothly moves, but I try to focus on what he says.

Like the nurse last week, he tells us about Afghanistan and different outreach projects, but he has also been to other war zones in the Middle East and Africa. His experience seems endless and I'm thinking Georgie was right that time when she said he is one of those men who is married to the Army. Still, I wonder if he is seeing someone now. He tells his story from another angle than the nurse did, expressing gratitude and appreciation for what we contribute in our future role.

"So many of my men would be dead, _I_ would be dead, if it wasn't for the MERT and the staff at the field hospital and the way to recovery once an injured soldier is shipped back home is also highly dependent on skilled Army nurses. Doctors too of course, but you are as vital as them to care, help and motivate. I'm eternally grateful to those that helped me and I'm sure you will make that important difference to someone else."

His eyes lock with mine for a few long seconds and my breath hitches.

When the loud applause ends after his last words and the auditorium empties except for a few that linger to ask him questions, I shyly approach him. I have the valid reason that I must return his jacket.

I know he is aware of my presence as he answers some final questions, can see him watching me out of the corner of his eye and when they leave, he turns to me with a smile.

"Do you remember me? I mean, not from now, barging in like this was a Miss Wet T-shirt competition but from..."

"Your wedding day?" he interrupts me. "Of course, how can I ever forget? How come there always seems to be some drama going on when I meet you Molly Dawes?"

"I don't know, my life is generally uneventful until minutes before you come along. You must be tired of saving me", I giggle nervously.

"Not really. It's been far too long since the last time and here you are, almost finished training as an Army nurse."

"Yeah, who would have thought?"

"Was it four years ago we met?"

"Something like that, but you look the same."

"You look different, older."

"That's not usually considered as a compliment when said to a girl, you know."

His cheeks turn slightly pink.

"It was meant to be. I just want to say you don't look so childish anymore..."

I raise my eyebrows, challenging, because now he sort of insults the way I looked then instead.

"Shit, all I mean to say is; you looked like a very young, lost girl then. Especially when we met in the lift. Now you look like a young woman who knows where she is going. It becomes you. Even better than the change of hair colour."

Now I feel myself blush, because that truly is a compliment.

"Then, I suppose, thank you", I stutter.

"I'd love to hear how your life has been, how you ended up here."

This is where he will say 'we should take a coffee some time', like people say but then never do.

"Can I buy you a coffee?" he asks.

"What? Now? Go for a coffee you and me?"

"Do you see anyone else here?" he smirks. "Yes, you and I unless you already have other plans?"

"No, I'm free. Just planned to study for my final exams but I can spare the time."

"Are you sure?"

I have loads and loads to read, the flat needs cleaning, I need to go shopping groceries, I half promised to go with a friend to a movie in two hours and I do have a near-boyfriend already.

"Yes, I'm sure. Don't really drink coffee but a cuppa would be nice."

"Great, let's go then. And you may keep my jacket for now, or I think things may be a bit...awkward."

Dear lord. How many times can I blush in one morning?


	8. Chapter 8

Step by Step

Chapter 8

"So what's next for you Molly?" He stirred his coffee rather than look into her eyes again.

Eyes that seemed to draw him in each and every time he looked into them. Eyes that were almost impossible to forget. 

He would be lying if he said he'd thought about her constantly over the past four years. His life had, as expected, gone on. He'd had his share of meaningless fun, enjoyed the company of a lady or two in that time. Nothing lasting nothing serious. Merely a distraction. Yet despite his career advancement and the fun he had in his life, every now and then he'd find that his mind would often stray to thoughts of one Miss Molly Dawes, and her fine eyes. The very same Molly Dawes, and the same set of eyes, who sat opposite him now. 

She talked. Answered all his questions. Smile and looked at him many times. Pulling her lip through her bottom teeth in the most enchanting way. Obviously happy with his company. Explaining to him where she was expecting to be posted next, and if he's honest he listens, but only half heartedly. 

He wonders what he's doing here? Why did he ask her for a coffee? What had made him do something so out of character? He doesn't get emotionally involved. Never has since his marriage went spectacularly wrong. He's sort out company only when the ache of loneliness drove him to it, and Elvis had spurred him on while in a drunken state. Yet here he was sober and he'd actually sort her company out, and more surprisingly found he was enjoying it. He was mesmerised by her. 

As she talked, he thought. Thought about the last time he'd seen her, the last time he'd helped her. Not expecting it really to be so long until they had met again.

He had asked Georgie about her once or twice in the intervening years. Trying to play it cool, scared she'd read too much into it and interfere. He had hoped to be brave enough if he did see her again to ask for her phone number, and he had even visited Georgie's flat once more in the hope of seeing Molly Dawes, but each attempt failed. He never saw her again. Georgie became a closed book, where Molly was concerned, and their relationship, which had always been based around Elvis, soon faded away and they all moved on in different directions. And so he started to almost, but not quite, forget. 

Yet as soon as he saw her. As soon as he clocked her barging noisily through the lecture theatres doors, he knew he was still pleased to see her, and he hadn't forgotten.

Her eyes. Eyes he couldn't recall noticing before, but then seeing them again making him realise that he'd never forgotten them or seen any eyes as beautiful as hers. That smile, the one the that lit up a lonely room in his closed off heart, suddenly warmed him again. He'd felt keenly what he'd missed all these past four years without even knowing it. Until today. 

"So basically." She continued. "I reckon it will be Catterick. Friarage Hospital or Birmingham. Who knows?" She looked up at him expectantly. Smiling her smile. 

He smiled back at her. Unsure as to what he'd missed. Wishing he'd listened a bit more. 

She smiled again at him. More shyly this time. Unsure. 

"It will be bit odd being called Acting Corporal Dawes in a couple of weeks' times though." She added. Unsure if she still should be talking. Feeling uncomfortable sitting there chatting away when he seemed to have lost interest. 

"Yeah." Is all he offered to her through smiles and nods of his head. 

"Guess you're used to all that though?" She asked. 

"All what?" He had totally lost the track of her conversation. 

"Rank and being called 'Sir' and that." She replied. 

He watched her. Her face tipped up to his, hoping for something more from him. 

He chuckled and sat back. Physically moving away from her to give him some time to think without being intoxicated by her. 

"Yeah. I guess I am." He laughed. "You'll have to start calling me 'Sir' from now on." 

Her eyes shot up. Shocked and tying to work out of he was being serious or not. 

"I guess I will." She plainly replied. "Though I guess I won't see you that much though. Will I?" She asked, dared to hope. 

"No. I don't suppose you will." Was his automatic reply. Wishing, hoping he could say something clever or funny. Anything that would make her want to stay and talk to him longer. 

"So anyway." She looked out of the window and noticed the rain had stopped. "I best be going." 

He doesn't want her to go, but can't find it in him to ask her to stay. She watches as he stands, the perfect gentleman, and accepts the jacket she hands him. It's then, as she offers it to him that their fingers touch, and she feels foolish at the sensation that runs through her body. Desire, plain and simple. 

"It was good seeing you again Dawes." He stretches out a hand to shake. Polite. 

"Yes. You too Charles." She responds. "I mean Sir." And the last words are said with an under lying tone of mockery he notices. 

He watches her walk away. She doesn't look back, and he feels upset. There's a feeling inside of him that unsettles him, and that's not what he wants. That isn't who he is anymore. It's best, he reasons, just to let her go. He out ranks her. He's an old and battle tested Major. Eight, nine years, her elder. What would someone like her see in someone like him? 

He reasons it out as he slowly walks back to his barracks. Keenly breathing her scent from his jacket she wore. Warm and spiced notes fill his nose. She's about to become a newly qualified registered nurse. Just staring out on her journey. She doesn't need him. The complication of it all. He doesn't need her, he argues internally with himself, and so he lets her go. He doesn't turn at all to watch the beautiful girl with the green sparkly eyes walk away from him... again.

...… 

"How's the folks?" It's polite conversation. Always is when he first meets up with Elvis. Although their friendship has repaired since that day at the Town Hall, they still are cautious around each other at first. Measuring each other up. 

"Same old." Elvis replied sucking on his beer. "They still hate my job. Deeply disappointed with me and all that shit. Going around the world killing folks." 

"Yeah? I can imagine." Charles chuckles and suddenly just like that the tension is broken. 

Elvis beams back at his mate. The most loyal mate a friend could have. They've had their fall outs, they've had their misunderstandings, but throughout it all no matter what they still remained loyal friends. 

"So what going on in Charlie's world?" Elvis always asked the question, and the answers never changed. Charles always defaulted to the work answer. Boring and predictable. Only coming out of his shell when Elvis really pushed him and plied him with plenty of booze.

Yet this time there was a pause. Enough to make Elvis look up. Charles had never hesitated in his reply before. Elvis sees it, sure that there is something off balance in his best mate's life. 

Elvis says nothing, just continues staring ahead at the bar they were sitting at and lets out a small chuckle. 

"What?" Charles snapped back. "I never said anything." He angrily said knowing what that chuckle meant. 

"You don't have to mate." Was all Elvis said as he ordered them two more beers with chasers. "But you will." 

They necked the shots, gasping at the toughness of the liquor and calmed their throats with the beers. Both stayed silent for a while. 

"So?" Eventually Elvis asked. "You gonna say?" 

"Nothing to say." Charles admitted, but he was thinking about a pair of green eyes again. 

"Whatever mate." Elvis muttered quietly. "But you can't fool me." 

Charles looked as him quizzically. 

"Look Charlie. I know the signs. Hello. Remember me? I've been in love with the same woman for years. I fucked it up I know." He says before Charles could get a dig in. "But I still love her... and I know unrequited love when I see it." 

"For fucks sale Elvis. I'm not in love." Charles spat back. 

"Yeah?" You sure about that mate?" Then turning to look at Charles he asks. "But there is at least someone isn't there?" 

Again Charles says nothing and simply orders more shots. 

Tonight was going to be a good one for forgetting it all. He had a long weekend's leave, and was soon off to his new posting. His packing was almost done, his departure date getting closer. All he needed to do was to start his round of goodbyes, and then he'd be done. Tonight was the start of it all. Elvis was his first planned goodbye. 

"Look don't tell me mate. I get that." Elvis continued after accepting the shot. "You've lost trust in me a long time ago I reckon." He said huffily and he necked the shot back. 

"Shit Elvis. It's not that." Charles explained. "It's just..." He downed his harsh liquor quota too. "Complicated... and...It's nothing I can explain." 

He's seen her twice more since that disastrous coffee date. Both times almost by accident, but he'd positioned himself in the areas where she'd pass through, and in the past two weeks he'd been lucky ... twice. They were the good days. 

It had never gone past five or ten minutes of chat in the corridor. Both aware of his status and the lack of hers, but still they had chatted. Flirted even, but she always called him 'Sir', almost laughingly making a very definite point of it. 

He noticed during these times he invested in her. He  
enjoyed listening to her, enjoyed her happy laughter, and felt a sense of loss when, even though they had only been in each other's company for minutes, they parted. 

He admitted it to himself and no one else. He liked Molly Dawes. He actually found that maybe he more than liked her. She was someone who for the first time in nearly a decade had interested him, and he wanted to know some more. 

Yet it was impossible. She was here for now, but soon about to go to her first placement, and he was being posted too. Their paths were bound not to cross again, and he regretted that. But how was he able to explain all that to his love cynical mate? That this girl, who he met on one of the worse days of Elvis' life, and who he'd only met briefly since, was starting to fill up most of his daily thoughts. 

"Yeah. Whatever mate. You need a check-up from the neck up mate." Elvis spoke bringing him out of his musings. 

"What?" Charles asked confused, conscious he'd been quiet for a long time thinking about Molly. 

"Look. Whoever it is for fuck sake put yourself out of your misery and tell her. Shit Charlie grow a bloody pair." And with that Elvis shot off the stool and left. "If you won't talk to me. Try talking to her. Miserable git." 

Charles was now left alone. The bar bill his only friend. The night now definitely over for them both. Elvis offended by his friend's secrecy, had walked out, away to find friendship elsewhere. 

... 

"So tell me again what we're doing?" Elvis watched his best mate, several weeks later getting himself ready. 

Charles stepped onto his dark jeans and sighed. Fasting the belt and nervously rubbing his hands up and down the legs. Sweaty palms. 

"I've told you. We're going out for a drink." Charles replied focusing on choosing a smart shirt more than his reply to Elvis. 

"Really?" Elvis laughed. "A drink? A simple drink?" 

"Yes." Charles snapped. Finally choosing the perfect blue shirt and reflecting on his appearance. 

"So if that's the case?" Elvis asked. "A... Why are you poncing yourself up and B... why are you acting as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night?" 

Charles spun round and watched his friend laying on his bed, calm, cool and mocking him. He was right though. Charles was nervous. 

Over the past few weeks he'd done some hunting around. An easy thing for him to do due to his rank. He knew today had been Molly's graduation day, and although he hadn't been able to attend that without raising an eyebrow or two, he knew he'd be able to join them tonight. By listening to the gossip around camp about the graduation he found out that tonight a large group of them were off out to celebrate. A meal and then on to some club. Charles' cunning plan was to, once again, accidentally bump into her on this night out. Take a chance, move this 'friendship' onto another stage. 

It seemed a simple plan. Fool proof. Yet he was nervous. He didn't know what he was expecting from it. He was leaving in a week or so, but before he went, he knew he needed to take a chance with the girl whose face rarely left his thoughts these days. 

"Look." Charles began. "There's this girl." Instantly he regretted it. 

Elvis burst out laughing. He couldn't blame him. It did sound so juvenile. Here Charles was a grown man. A Major in the bloody British Army, and he was conniving on 'meeting' a girl and needed his best mate as back up. 

"I knew it." Elvis belted out through his laughter. "Bloody hell Charlie. How old are you?" 

"Look it's not like that." Charles raked his hands though his hair for the thousandth time. "This one is just..." 

"What's her name mate?" Elvis asked trying to be serious. Watching all types of anxiety cross his friends face. 

Automatically Charles answered, smiling. 

"Molly." 

"Molly?" Elvis threw his arms up in disbelief. "Not 'lift girl Molly'? Not her still?" 

Charles looked at his friend with utter confusion. "What do you mean? 'Lift girl Molly.' How'd you know about that?" 

"I mean Charlie you'd be a rubbish special agent. You talk... a lot... when pissed." Elvis burst out. 

Charles shook his head. 

"I don't follow?" 

Elvis sat up on his mates' bed. 

"Charlie, I hate to tell you, but for the past four years or so when you've been pissed and right maudlin all you ever talk about is this girl Molly. 'The lift girl'. The 'perfect bundle of contradictions. That's what you call her." 

"Shit! Do I? Have I?" Charles was shocked. 

"Yeah." Elvis continued to chuckle. "Even heard it from a good source that you might even once or twice called one of your lady friends her name too... you know just at the wrong time and that." 

"Fuck. Shit." Charles hung his head low. Utterly ashamed and amazed at Elvis' revelations. They were not the traits of a gentleman. 

"So? Where are we off to meet Molly tonight then?" Elvis continued. "I can see why you're nervous. But why do you really need me there with you on your date?" 

"Ah. Well you see." Charles felt foolish. "It isn't a date. More like being in the same place at the same time." He confessed. 

"For fucks sake Charlie! You ain't even asked her?" 

"Well no." Examining it like this he knew how pathetic it sounded. "It's complicated." 

Elvis jumped off the bed and grabbed his jacket. 

"One hour. That's all I'm giving ya. One hour to be your fucking wing man. Then I'm out of there." 

Charles smiled and grabbed his car keys. Intending on keeping a clear head and the excuse of being able to offer her a lift home part of his plan, he intended to drive. He'd planned for tonight like he'd never planned a date, which wasn't a date, before. 

The bar was crowded and noisy. Instantly he felt his nerves, and Elvis slapped him on his back and scooted off to the bar for fortifications, meaning he stood there alone and unsure. 

Charles felt lost for a moment. He felt old and foolish, this wasn't his usual thing, and then he saw her. All doubts disappeared. She was beautiful, happy and surrounded by what seemed to him an impenetrable wall of friends. He hesitated as to how to make a move. He didn't need to however; she saw him within seconds of him walking through the door. Their eyes connecting with each other, both their smiles wide and genuine as she moved forwards towards him. 

"Evening Sir." She beamed as she stepped up close to him away from the crowd. Grinning at the tease she had started by being so formal. 

"Charles." He offered. Knowing she'd called him his name many times before, but going along with the game they played where she always started off on the formal side. "And congratulations Acting Corporal Dawes." 

She giggled happily and he could tell this wasn't her first drink. Winking at him as she took a mouthful. 

"Good day?" He asked. 

"The best." She replied. "The bleeding best." Her smile just got bigger, and for a moment he was lost in it. 

"So...come here often?" She asked then burst out laughing. "I mean... is this your usual place... I mean... You here alone?" She finally got out. The drink and her nerves were fearfully becoming a dangerous combination. 

"No, and no." Charles smiled back liking this giggling Molly more and more. "I'm here with a friend." And encouraged seeing the smile drop from her face he quickly continued. "He's at the bar." Loving how her smile quickly returned. 

"So what now then Molly?" He asked as they were bumped and jostled together. The bar was crowded and noisy enough for them to have to stand close to each other. Closer than they ever had before. He spoke the words into her ear, she felt him warm, soft and close. Closer than she ever felt just standing next to anyone before. Charles' height an advantage. He looked down on her and loved the way she looked up at him. He could smell the spiciness of her perfume, the uniqueness of her smell, and smiled when he realised, he could even count the few freckles on her skin. 

"A week holiday. Then as I thought. Catterick. My first placement for three months. Then...Who knows?" She replied. 

"That's great." He replied. Enjoying how she had to stand up on her tiptoes to talk into his ear. How to steady herself she rested her hands firmly on his chest, how her body leaned into his. 

"Yeah. It's all pretty mad. But exiting." She smiled. "You know though it was kind of all down to you, and that day in the lift that started all this. Well you and Georgie." She replied. 

He'd heard her say such things before to him, but still he raised his eyebrows. He didn't want her thanks, but appreciated how it all could have been so different for her. He was proud of who she had become, with or without him. 

"Yeah. You mate. You were the one who started it all." She giggled as she swigged back her glass of fizz. Poking him in the chest. "You stopped me making the biggest mistake of me life. Well you and a power cut." She paused and looked deeply into his eyes. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome." He softly spoke. "Your very welcome." Her eyes caught his and wouldn't let them go, they stared at each other for a while. 

He found his hand had sort hers out as it rested on his chest, and he delicately began to stoked her tiny fingers under his. She didn't pull away. Her tiny body seemed to move in closer to his. 

He hesitated and almost rushed in to quickly to kiss her, watching as she stared up at him, how her lips slightly parted as though inviting him to do so. His hesitation left him. 

"Molly." He whispered out. 

She blinked as though she gave him permission to continue.

"Molly." His hand moved to her face and cupped it, gently, softly. 

"That day... in the lift ..." He started. "That day was special for me too." 

Her eyes didn't leave his. Not once. She swallowed hard, mesmerised by him. He dipped his head low. Low enough to almost touch her lips, feeling her sweet warm breath on his. 

"MOLLY!" 

She snapped back and pulled away from him as though on fire. Turning to face the person who had shouted out her name across the crowded bar. 

Charles took a few moments to realise what had just happened. So close to kissing her, she had pulled away from him at the last minute. He felt confused. Cheated. 

"There you are. Thought you were worshiping the great porcelain God or something." The young man said as soon as he got to her side. "We was worried." 

She have him a weak smile. "I ain't that pissed." She protested. 

Charles looked at the two of them while Molly suddenly remembered her manners. Curious as to who this young lad was. More Molly's age than his, and obviously someone who knew Molly well. 

"Shit. Sorry. Charles this is Chris. Chris this is Charles. Major James that is." 

Charles automatically held out his hand and shook the other's firmly. 

"Pleased to meet you Chris." He said politely. 

"So you know our Mols then?" Chris asked. 

"Err. Yes. Kind of." Charles replied as he watch the young man slide his arm around Molly's shoulders and claim her right in front of him. 

"That's nice." Was all Chris coldly said. "Right Mols. Shall we head back to the group?" And he started to turn her before her answer. 

Chris noticed her reluctance and her backward glance towards Charles. Feeling uneasy about leaving her alone with him. 

"Come the fuck on Mols." Chris shouted as he made his way back to the group. "Don't leave your boyfriend and mates waiting for you." And with those words he pulled her away from Charles and his influence. Her loyalty to her friends taking over any other desires she might, even briefly, of had. 

"Shit." He cursed under his breath as he stood alone and foolish again. 

"Oh harsh mate. Harsh." Elvis smirked out and expressed his amusement loudly. 

Elvis had watched it all from the side lines, and had seen just how close his mate was to finishing the deal, so to speak, when he was out smarted by another. Now he returned with the drinks and plenty of piss taking. 

"Take it that was the boyfriend then?" He asked, trying, though unsuccessfully, to appear a little bit supportive. 

"I guess so." Charles sadly replied. "Fuck. Hadn't expected that." 

"So what you gonna do?" Elvis continued to grin at the situation. 

"Don't know." Charles honestly replied. "Don't bloody know do I?" 

At this Elvis started to laughed. "Oh you poor deluded fool Charlie. You poor deluded fool." 

Charles stood watching the group Molly was once again embedded in. How they had reabsorbed her, and he knew his chance had passed. He had no further excuses to talk to her. Besides it was her night and he wanted her to enjoy it. 

He swigged on his one and only drink. Growing increasingly annoyed with Elvis who still insisted on chuckling at Charles' crashing and burning episode. 

Suddenly though Charles saw a shift in the group. Watched her spot both of them at still standing together at the bar. 

She hesitated. Then as if in a dream he watched her walk over to them. Walking purposely towards them. There was no doubt. She was on a mission. She was coming to talk to them. 

"I don't know what you're laughing at Elvis." Charles managed to choke out. "Looks like your nights about to go south too!" 

Elvis swung round at Charles' words. Confused. Then suddenly he saw her too. 

By the time he computed it all he was almost face to face with her. 

She smiled politely to Charles who nodded his head and stepped back. Not wanting to be too close to this fall out. 

"Elvis." Was all she said.

One word but spoken as brutally as any word could be said. 

He froze. 

He'd never expected it to be her. For her to be here tonight. For them even to meet again. Not like this. 

He failed to answer and watched her face tick over with impatience in waiting for his acknowledgment of her. 

He stumbled. Not like him at all, yet here she was. The woman he loved. The woman he thought about for the past five years. Finally she was standing in front of him speaking his name. 

Here standing in front of him after nearly five years of wanting nothing to do with him ever again was Georgie Lane. 


	9. Chapter 9

The heat between my legs would suggest that his hands are doing exactly what they need to. It started off with him placing one gently on the small of my back, guiding my body towards his so we're pressed up against each other and I can feel his excitement.

His large hands cup my face, tilting my head upwards to meet his lips and I rest my hands on his tanned, strong forearms whilst he gently starts kissing down my neck and he's groaning MY name.

The heat is now an urge. I need him. His kisses are urgent now as he pulls at the zip of my jeans and I respond by trying to unbutton his shirt before just ripping at it for easy access.

"MOLLY?!"

I'm rudely and abruptly torn from my lust filled day dream by Chris who's looking at me like I'm some sort of bleedin' idiot.

"Georgie is having a dust up with some bloke over there"

I clap eyes on her just in time to see her swing for the other tall, dark handsome fella who seems to be with Charles and the pair of them look like they are about to shit their pants.

I've noticed that Georgie sounds considerably more Northern when she's angry.

"MOLLY!" He bellows again bringing me back from my mind wandering off anywhere but here and if he shouts at me one more time then the bouncers ain't gonna know what's hit 'em because I'll be in a fight too.

"Looks to me like she's handling it so fuck off" I snap and pretend not to notice the wounded expression he's now wearing.

Charles appears to have it under control or at least he did until I see a ball of dark, bouffant and gloriously shiny hair and fake tan make a lunge for it through the arms of the subject of my saucy daydream and he looks like he might gonna need some help.

I feel Chris' eyes burning holes in my back as I move towards to commotion to save him.

"Come on you" I say as jolly as possible in hopes to diffuse the bomb that is Georgie Lane but I'm too late, she slips past both me and Charles and even through the loud, thumping music I hear her hand connect with his cheek.

It's like a scene from a Wild West movie, they are having the stand off. Nobody moves. Nobody breaks eye contact.

The lack of any emotion in Georgie's eyes scares me so I place a gentle hand on her arm so as not to poke the bear and end up getting a slap myself.

"How could you?" She finally sobs, earth shattering sobs that she's held in for all these years have finally been released and its ugly and heart breaking.

"Georgie" Elvis tries but she raises her hand to stop him.

"There's nothing you can say. I just needed to do that"

I lead her by the hand into the fresh air and push the hair that's stuck to her tear drenched cheeks out of her pretty face.

"I'm sorry I've ruined your night Mol! I'm gonna head off but you stay. Please enjoy the rest if you can" she thrusts a £50 note into my hands "Get yourself whatever that will buy ya and drink and laugh and dance. You so deserve this"

"Let me come with you, please. I don't want you to be alone"

She smiles back at me "Don't worry, I've got Jamie... he's my happily ever after, now it's time for you to find yours and Chris isn't it"

I'm taken aback by her statement; it was the last place I expected this conversation to go.

"You've come so far from when we met, you've bettered yourself and you're making a great life for yourself, he's gonna hold you back"

She's not telling me anything I didn't already know deep down and I trust her judgement implicitly but all I can do nod to let her know I've understood. The thought of another relationship ending doesn't feel too good.

"You'll text me when you get home safe yeah?"

She nods and I watch my perfectly beautiful friend walk off and I take a moment to digest what she's said.

"Was wondering where you'd got too"

His hand closes around my upper arm causing me to jump.

"I think it's time we called it a night"

"Nah, don't be silly. The nights only just begun" I smile whilst flashing the £50 Georgie donated to the drunken cause but he doesn't return it.

"I don't think you heard me... it's time to go"

I attempt to push my way past him but he blocks the door way, determined that this night is finished. The uneasiness building in my chest feels all too familiar of a past toxic relationship and it would appear that Georgie was right. He is not for me.

"Let me at least say goodbye, then we need to talk"

Once again his hand tightens around my arm.

"Get off, you're hurting me" he doesn't listen and drags me towards the exit.

"I think you'll find Molly has asked you to take your hands off her, I suggest you comply"

My knight in shining armour appears just when things are a bit hairy and Chris immediately does as Charles instructs him.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice full of concern.

"You grab your stuff; I'll see that our friend here doesn't follow you"

I move as fast as I can through the club. What an absolute shitter of a night! After a brief explanation to rest of the group, I make our excuses and head back to make sure Charles and Chris aren't at it tooth and claw. Much to my horror it's Elvis who has taken a dislike to Chris in the few minutes I was gone and I'm the unlucky bystander who watches these two blokes attempt to beat each other to a pulp.

Post tear up, both Elvis and Chris are being carted off down the cop shop and poor Charles looks as confused as I am.

This is my chance to end this game of cat and mouse we've played over the years but he's gone before I could even think of what to say, he's escorted by a copper as he attempts to vouch for Elvis' good character. I watch as once again he slips away from me. Maybe this isn't Lady Luck intervening after all.

-OG-

As I come to the end of my placement at Catterick, I can't help but reflect on my own ability to adapt to whatever life throws at me.

Another break up of a toxic relationship with Chris, who I hadn't realised had been controlling and manipulative until I bumped into Charles and listened to Georgie's warning that night - he showed his true colours so I got my arse out of there pronto. Relocating to Catterick couldn't have happened at a better time.

A fresh start, where I've been learning and thriving everyday, leaving any thoughts of men or relationships behind me. Although that might not be strictly true, Charles James once again had gotten under my skin as quickly as he seems to keep slipping away - we'd been _so_ close to having _a_ _moment_.

I can almost feel his breath on my skin when I think of just how close we were. How his lips had nearly been on mine. Once again he'd been my white knight until he disappeared all over again. I've since heard he'd recently been posted back to Afghan and it was then I decided I have to push him out of my mind because I started to miss someone who was never mine to miss and now he's what feels like a world away.

Back to the real world now and I'm shaking as I make the long walk to the boss' office. I know I ain't fucked anything up so I can rule out a bollocking but I'm not sure what else it could be?

The door is open and he's waiting for me. I'm absolutely crapping my pants. In moments of uncertainty I have a tendency to slip back into the self deprecating ways of Molly Dawes of old. The one who never felt good enough and assumed the worst was always about to happen to me.

"At ease Dawes, no need to look like I'm about to shoot your puppy" he reassures, or tries to at least.

"Sir"

"I heard that you had expressed interest in taking your training as far as you possibly could? Well Dawes, an opportunity has arisen and it requires the best we've got. YOU are the best we've got! If you are serious about taking things to the next level, I'd like to offer your services to the field hospital in Bastian. It doesn't get anymore real than that"

I'm gobsmacked, how can I... Molly Dawes be the best they've got?

"I'll give you 24 hours to decide"

"I don't need 24 hours Sir. I want this, I want to make a difference where it matters the most"

His expression suggests I've said exactly what he wants to hear and just like that I'm off to Afghan in 72 hours to be the very best for our troops over there. And no, I am absolutely not dreaming of crossing paths with the handsome Charles James.


	10. Chapter 10

**Mixing up the order we are writing in now. **

**It's pot luck which writer takes on the next chapter. This one is by Gemmadog. Hope you enjoy.**

**Step by Step**

**Chapter 10**

"Well this looks bloody awful." The mouthy blonde drawled out as she looked through the dirty bus windows.

She was right though everyone knew that, but everyone had the good sense to keep their mouths shut. First impressions and all that.

They had just spent the last 15 hours or so in her company. The blonde and Molly were the only two females on the transporter plane coming in, and were now the only two females in the rickety, hot, bus. Since they were the only two females all the others just presumed they were friends.

Her wise cracks, close to the bone inappropriate comments, and constant talking, made Molly definitely wanting to show everyone, from the word go, that they were not.

She was hot. Hotter and stickier than she had ever been. Her greens were plastered to her body, and in the most un-lady like and unpleasant of ways sweat trickled down her back and in between her breasts. She could have been paranoid, and would have been paranoid that she stank if everyone else wasn't in exactly the same boat. If she was a bit ripe, she reckoned, then they all were. They were all just as hot, damp haired, sticky and thirsty as her.

Despite it all though, apart from the gobby blonde who apparently was called Christine, they were silently staring at the outside world before them. Staring at the sand, the dust, the people, the equipment, and the vast streets of port-a cabins and space age type tents... they were taking in their new home.

Bastion.

Molly's new home for the next six months. She admitted only to herself, it looked grim. It looked hard work too, and just watching the folks moving around outside of the bus, was like watching ants wading through treacle. Hot, hard and busy, really busy. As far as the eye could see there was always someone or something going someplace, walking, driving, or running, despite the heat.

However Molly was excited. She felt that this was something new to her life. Something she'd never thought she'd see. Her mouth, she became aware, was slightly gaping as she took it all in.

Hell, it may be called by others, but for the next six months it was her new home. Her chance to learn and to shine. It was up to her and her alone to make this work for her.

It had all happened so fast. She'd been deployed with little time to spare. She found it hard leaving so quickly, leaving Georgie behind, her new life, and her newly befriended work colleagues without proper goodbyes. Yet Georgie was the hardest of them all to say goodbye to. Springing the news on her that potentially, Molly, a bridesmaid, wouldn't be home for her wedding in three months' time was one conversation that didn't go well. Georgie actually sulked when Molly first told her. It almost made Molly laugh, but instead she patiently explained to the grumpy Georgie why she wanted to take this tour. Explained the many reasons, and eventually her friend understood, and forgave. Especially once Molly had reassured her she'd already submitted the special leave request form for the wedding day.

And so Molly had quickly packed and prepared to leave. Excitement and nerves filling her world. Questions and expectations limitless on her new adventure, mixed with anticipation as she had had definite comms that a certain Charles James still remained posted in Afghanistan too.

What was a girl to do? Molly thought. When the Army says go, you go, and the fact you go with a smile on your face and a plan in your heart was just an added bonus.

The bus came to a noisy stop and orders were barked to disembark and line up. Grumbles and moans, were inter mixed with nervous laughter and jokes. They were all nervous and excited in equal parts, and all desperately tried not to show it.

Eventually, after some sorting and shifting the group were met by the camp's Major and his efficient staff. Greetings and introductions were made, and soon their heads were awash with quarter details, settling in schedules and maps of the sprawling camp and its facilities. The varying cap badges amongst them showed it was a mixed bunch that had arrived, and all stayed in reverend silence and listened. Eventually the welcoming committee was over and Soldiers from all trades scattered away to find their place in this new world.

Molly let out a huge groan. It was just as she had suspected and feared. She was quartered with Christine. The only small mercy she found was that with her being an Engineer, and Molly a Nurse, their differing shifts and roles meant paths would only cross at rest times.

"See the newbies have arrive." He muttered out through a mouthful of cereal. "You got any?"

"No. Not this time... thank God. I've already got a section with some first timers." He ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. "They are needing some serious time getting used to it all." He said rolling his eyes to his fellow officer. Understandable as it was, it was still frustrating.

They both sat there and stayed silent for a while longer. Lazily starting their day over breakfast and coffee, while watching as the half-awake camp started to fully come to life, and the new arrivals scattered around, bewildered, looking for their appropriate places. A small degree of sympathy went out to them. The arrivals continued to hold their interest. Sometimes anything new was of interest in a place where amusement was hard to find.

"Sorry James." Major Beck interrupted their quiet musings. "You've got a replacement."

Charles stood respectfully to attention, and turned away from the new personnel.

"Sir?" He questioned. "Who, and why, may I ask?" Confused by the change.

"Dangles. Off home...suddenly. Family death. Just heard." Beck chipped back. He was never one for three words when one or two would suffice. "You've got a newbie as a replacement! She's green. First tour."

"Sir." Was all he said as Beck passed him the information sheet. It was pointless protesting or asking more. Everything wold be covered in the file he held onto. "When does Dangles leave?"

"Now. Next half an hour or so." He checked his watch. And with that he walked away.

Charles bid his other officers a good morning and then headed off to find his section and say his farewells to Dangles. Scanning through the newbie's file and brief as he went. Missing the remaining arrivals as they spread around the camp.

He sighed as he resigned himself to another soldier to babysit on this tour. This long tour which had interrupted his life once more. Six months he was posted out here. Half way through and already there was talk of them extending it. Usually he wouldn't have minded, but this time his leaving had meant he never got his chance. He never had the time to chase the opportunity that had nearly happened with Molly. Something he had really wanted to do, but the Army got in the way of his life again.

He still thought about her. He still dreamed about her. How close they had come to almost kissing. How close they had come to finally having a start, and then Elvis happened. His loyal, trouble finding mate getting himself involved yet again with another man and his fists. Involved in such a way that snatched Charles once again away from her that night, and by the time the morning came she was gone, and he was posted.

So this tour had been harder than any he'd done before. He resented it this time as he felt it had taken away a small chance of him having something normal in his life again. A small chance of a relationship, maybe. Plus he was getting older, and wanted to see more of his son, who was growing up so fast. Instead he was away looking after other young men, so dependent on him. It was, he found this time exhausting.

His time spent though with Dangles sobered him up. Gave him the kick up the arse he needed. He realised it was time to put his big boy pants on and be the Captain he was trained to be, rather than the love sick puppy he wallowed in at times.

Dangles had just lost his mother. Suddenly without any warning. Yes, he was going home, but he was going home to a family destroyed by the matriarch's death. Charles' problems came nowhere close to Dangles' and for now he appreciated that.

"Oh my God Molly." Christine gushed as she caught up with her hours later on the way to the canteen tent. "You should get a look at my new CO. He's bloody gorgeous."

Christine hooked onto Molly's arm and chatted on about how hot the new Captain she was under. How he was the most amazing man she'd ever seen. His hair, his teeth, his eyes. Fit. Everything in one package she effused.

Molly just feigned to listen, and slightly annoyed at Christine's lack of respect. Her mind too full to say anything. Her first reporting in, and half a shift under her belt at the hospital was still causing her mind to buzz.

It was a scary place. Fast, noisy, busy and so vital to those who needed their help. Whilst she was there, right in the middle of being inducted, there had been several traumas brought in. She saw first-hand the work she was expected to do. She wondered how she, so fresh and newly qualified, could actually be beneficial in such an environment. She was scared and for the first time in a long time, she started to doubt herself. Suddenly she felt the shit just got real. She wasn't here to chase a dream. She was here to do a job. A very serious one at that.

Christine didn't stop her chatter as she bounced along Molly's side. Her arm still interlinked with hers and due to the height difference she bumped and pull Molly in an uncomfortable pace. It irritated her. After the day Molly had it made her think of Christine even more frivolous and self-centred.

Everywhere Molly had been that day, in the eight hours since she had arrived, she had felt like a rabbit in the headlights. Out here life was loud, fast and hot. Her senses were struggling to keep up. She needed time to process it all, and Christine wasn't allowing her that. It was so confusing. Instead she blindly followed what was expected of her. Reported where she needed to be, turned up where she thought she should be. And now here she stood in the food que and move forward with the rest of them, like she thought she should do. Automatic.

"Oh my God look. He's over there." Christine banged her in the ribs to get her attention. To break the robotic trance she was in.

Molly followed the path of her gaze and saw the back of a soldier's head, bent low and laughing with some other soldiers. There was nothing to comment on. Nothing to see.

"Who?" Molly asked while helping herself to some supper, turning away without really spending more than half a second looking. Yet she knew already who Christine was commenting on and didn't want to be part of it.

She was exhausted and hungry. She wanted today to be over and to hit her cot. Knowing her first shift started at 6am and she already was anxious about it. Already having doubts.

"My Captain. My Captain James." Christine hissed back. "The hottie I was telling you about."

Hearing his name had Molly quickly turned her head back to look.

And there he was. Charles James. In the flesh, more than a small part of her reason to be here. Just like that, no looking, no asking around. He was there. She'd never expected it to be this easy, to find him again, but it had and she did.

She was very self-aware. Everything that she did she did with a shake to her hands and a thumping to her chest. Last time she had seen him there had been something, in fact each time she had seen him there had been something, but last time it was more. It was something she'd been hoping to build on, but then he was gone and her chance was no more.

Christine sat up straight and Molly reacted too. Knowing a higher rank was close. Even if there wasn't it was always best to be safer than sorry.

He saw her instantly and failed to process it at first. Unsure how to react, what to say. He watched her smiling eyes acknowledge him and saw, rather than heard her start to greet him. He was conscious of how public it all was. How wrong it might look, and so he reverted to rank, something he tried hard not to do, but he did it all the same.

As she went to speak she saw how he cut her off. It amazed her at how reserved he was, and then she remembered Christine. She watched as he merely forced out a curt nod of his head toward her. Acknowledging her as a soldier, nothing more. He said no words. Showed no signs of recognising her. He blanked her.

It hurt.

"Sir." Christine put on a ridiculously sweet voice as she spoke. She was trying to catch his attention as he walked past her. Widening her eyes and pushing her chest out to attract him more.

He stopped. Aware of how false her voice sounded in such an environment. He didn't want to but had to. He had no choice but to acknowledge her, a soldier in his command, and so turned.

"Lance Corporal Halt." He replied efficiently to her greeting, using her formal title. Setting up barriers from the word go.

He kept his eyes away from hers. To aware that Molly sat close to the person he was now being forced to engage in conversation with.

"My friends call me Happy Sir." She purred back. Giving him a sickly smile.

Charles stilled and turned his full attention to face her. His hand coming to rest either side on the table just in front of her. His voice low and full of authority.

"Well it just as well I'm not your friend then isn't it Halt." He paused for effect. "I'm your CO and never forget that." He spoke directly into her expectant face, that soon turned to horror as she realised she'd messed up.

"Sir." Was all she meekly replied as she blushed at her mistake. Knowing others would have seen and heard. It was the worst start.

"08.00. Tomorrow Halt and don't be late." He barked out at her and left the canteen with a determined stride.

Molly watched him go, as did others. Christine attempt at making friends had back fired, and although Molly was hurt by Charles' snub to her, she pushed it aside, for now, to offer Christine some sympathy at her error.

The shock of seeing Molly, out here in all places was unbelievable. His hands still shook minutes later. Molly... someone he'd wanted to see again for so long, and here she was. There she had been. In front of him. Begging for him to say 'hello', to acknowledge her. Yet he didn't. He knew he'd messed it up. He knew he'd handled it all wrong.

He paced backward and forwards in his cabin. Annoyed with himself. Wondering where to go from here. He'd snubbed her. How would she forgive him for that when there had been no reason for him to do so? It was perfectly acceptable for him to know her, recognise her, acknowledge her. Yet he didn't. Their relationship was entirely innocent, they were just friends. Yet he had treated her like a guilty secret, as though he was ashamed of her.

"Shit." He burst out as he pulled on his running gear. It was late but he knew there'd be no chance of him sleeping now. "You're fucking it all up again James." He admonished himself further.

He ran. It was still hot, but not as hot as it had been. He ran around the compound until the sweat poured out of him and he knew his muscles would seriously complain of dehydration through the night. Yet he kept going. He kept on because that's all he could do as he was so angry with himself. He'd hurt her. He knew that, saw it in her eyes instantly, and he never wanted to do that. Not to Molly.

He ran and once again suddenly she was there. In his presence. Sitting on the ground, her back resting up against a port-a cabin. Hidden, in a totally secluded spot, he'd nearly missed her. He smiled as he approached her, that even though she'd been here less than a day she'd still found somewhere away from it all. A valuable skill in a place such as this. Some where she could be alone.

He quietly approached and as he did he noticed her wiping her face.

"Molly?" He softly spoke.

She quickly turned and dashed the tears away. Horrified he'd seen them.

She come here for some alone time. To give her ears a rest from Christine. To work out why he'd ignored her. To try to control the sickening feeling that was building inside her about her first shift in the morning. She'd come here to be alone and now here was here.

"You ok?" He asked and he lowered himself down next to her. He sat close but not too close.

"Yeah. No." She shouted out a little bit too loudly and she saw him wince. "Suddenly I'm fit to talk to now am I?" She asked.

"Look Molly about that. I'm sorry." He started.

"Save it. Yeah. I bet you are." She spat back. "And it's Dawes by the way. What you being a Captain and all that and me... well me, I'm nothing...you weren't even capable of saying hello to me."

"I'm sorry." He offered again. "You surprised me. I didn't expect it. You here. Afghanistan." He waved his hand around.

"Yeah mate? I've news, even surprised mates can still say hello." She whipped back.

He didn't know what to say. Silence fell.

"Were you crying? You know before?" He gently asked after a moment. Then regretted it.

"NO." Then as soon as the words left her mouth he saw the tears roll down her face again.

Instantly he moved to her side and pulled her in for a hug.

"Hey." He quietly said. Quickly scanning around to ensure they truly were alone. "Don't go nuts on me." He joked.

She let out a snotty laugh.

"Sorry." She said as she pulled back from leaning into his chest. "It's just been a bit of a day." She sniffed.

They hadn't a handkerchief between them so she used the sleeve of her greens. They both laughed again.

"I panicked." He admitted. "You being here. I couldn't work it out at first, and then Halt..." He blushed. "Well she's a bit ... you know. Can't have that. So I pulled rank. Became the stern Captain I'm known to be. Sorry."

She dried her face.

"It's all right I guess. Just a bit home sick and well a friendly face... it was nice." She smiled at him, finally.

"Yeah. It is." He grinned a stupid grin. A boyish grin that betrayed his feelings for her. "What you doing here Molly?" He used her name again. All rank between them disappearing.

"Like the rest of us poor buggers I guess." She smiled at him. Amazed how he was watching her. "Here to do me job." She suddenly felt very self-conscious.

He laughed, for he was happy in her company.

"But why?" He asked. "Wouldn't have thought you were up for this so soon."

"Well I was asked, wasn't I." She hesitated. "And I kind of volunteered to for it." She shifted herself and her bare knee touched his. Their contact made her colour. "Thought I'd see what it was all about and that." She finished.

"It's dangerous." He simply said. "Really dangerous."

"What you think I can't take care of me self?" She burst out. Startled by his supposed lack of faith in her.

"No." He shot back. Quickly alert as he saw how her whole body showed she was about to run from them. "God no." He again said to appease her.

"Then what?" She challenged.

"I just wish you hadn't, that's all." He said too quickly. "That you weren't here."

This hurt her.

"Why?" She asked with eyes wide and full of fear. Sad at his rejection of even her company.

He looked into her eyes as they glistened. The night was dark and there was no one about, but the moon afforded them a small degree of light, and he saw her beautiful face turned up to his.

"Cause I'll worry." He said slowly, as though he was worried he'd scare her off. "I'll worry about you, every day you're here."

"Me?" She asked. "Really?"

He nodded and his hand without thought, without conscious power behind it reach out and brushed her cheek.

"Every day, every minute." He continued.

"Why?" She asked suddenly hopeful. Sitting on the dusty ground surrounded by walls, security, rules and chaos was not the setting she'd imagine a romantic declaration to come... but she was hopeful.

He blushed and dipped his head down, letting out a small chuckle. He tried to pull his hand away that somehow now seemed to have cupped her face. She placed hers over his, capturing it. Not letting it go.

"Why?" She asked again leaning into him. Hooking a finger bravely under his chin to get him to look at her.

"Because you're special." He confessed quietly. "You're special to me."

"Ditto." She simply answered.

Neither moved. One of her hand remained holding his on her cheek, the other was now resting on his jaw, her fingers slowly tracing across his stubble.

Time stood still. He realised that this was his moment. He reached with both of his hands and held her face. He moved closer at exactly the same time she knelt up and towards him.

It happened so quickly. Their lips found each other. Soft, warm and ever so briefly. Both pulling away almost as quickly as they had come together.

"Shit. Sorry." He said as stood and moved back into his own space.

She stood too. Gaining her own space.

"Don't." She pleaded.

He realised his error.

"Fuck Molly. No. I didn't mean... I mean..." He looked around for inspiration and finding none he knew he had to be honest.

"I think I've been wanting to kiss you ever since that very first day we met." He admitted as she gazed up into his eye expectantly.

Her smile at his words spurred him on. He moved closer to her.

"I like you Molly. Really really like you." He moved in to stroke the hair from her face. "It's just here, us, this. We can't."

She sighed and rested her back against the port-a cabin wall. Knowing what he said was perfectly right.

"I guess not." She grimaced. "Shit timing. Eh?"

"Yeah." He laughed at the irony of it all. "Shit timing."

"At least I know though." She said. "That this Tom and Gerry act wasn't in my imagination."

"Tom and Gerry?" He asked laughing. "Know what?"

"That you're fond of me." She giggled back. "This cat and mouse thing wasn't just in me head."

With that he threw his head back a shouted out a laugh that could have given them away.

He stepped closer to her. Positioning himself closer to her, and capturing her.

"Not in your head." He dipped his head and moved in so his nose was touching hers. His forehead resting on hers. "And I'm very fond of you Dawes." He whispered out.

"Good." She replied almost silently. Her mouth was dry, her heart was racing. She smelt his dried body odour, his new sweat, the dust and him. And she couldn't remember ever smelling anything so good before.

His hands moved to either side of her body. Not touching her but encompassing her with his invisible embrace.

"Very, very fond of you Dawes." He continued. "But here. This place right now. We can't."

She heard his words but his body was betraying him. She felt the hardness of him teasing her as he pressed against her even more. Flattening her to the wall. She responded by arching into him and he let out a small guttural moan.

"For fucks sake."

He brushed his lips against hers slightly again.

"What are you doing to me Dawes?" He added as she moved her hands slowly down his back and rested them firmly on his buttocks. Effectively pulling him in closer to her.

"Nothing." She teased and then bravely kissed him. Hard, long and deep.

Minutes later they broke apart. She saw the conflict on his face. She saw the turmoil he was in.

Softly she moved her hand up onto his shoulders. Pushing his body from hers ever so slightly.

"You're right. I know. We wait out?" She twisted her face showing how unhappy she was with the solution. "For now. Until the tour is over... and then...?"

"Yeah? Yeah." He replied. Not too convinced. Thankful she had pulled away first before another line had been crossed. "We wait out... and then?" He grinned at her. His heart so suddenly full and happy.

"Yeah and then...?" She teased back at him raising her eyes in mischief. "Oh God and then...?"

They both chuckled and she started to shift uncomfortably. Yet he didn't pull away from her as she'd expected.

"I've a request though, before we say goodnight. Before we go back to being sensible."

"Yes." She answered far too quickly and in any other situation she would have been embarrassed by being too eager. "Anything." She replied.

"One more kiss? You know to see me though. It's going to be months before we're back home." He reasoned.

"Is that right?" She giggled. "Well then we'd best make this one count then hadn't we?"

They appraised each other with reverence and delight. Their lips matched each other's in depth, ferocity and exploration. They continued for a while longer than they had expected. Both taking in every detail and feelings of the other. Knowing this moment was what would have to carry them through. Knowing that this kiss would have to count.

And it certainly did!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N - So very sorry for how long this has taken. Fingers crossed you are all still with us!

-OG-

Molly woke a sweat covered mess, the Afghan heat making sleep uncomfortable and sticky. Another night of blurred dreams had left her unsure what was playing on her mind. She wanted nothing more than to run to Charles. To steal five minutes of his time so that everything would feel okay again. He did that for her. He was her safe place in Afghanistan. He reassured her, helped her remember why she had chosen this path. Reminded her that she was brilliant. She lived for the moments that felt romantic, where they would sneak into his cabin for alone time even if it really was just scraps. They were both happy to take whatever they could get. He was strictly professional, making sure neither of them would be compromised professionally. That no eyebrows could be raised. That was until he moved to his own Forward Operating Base and he'd been taken away from her.

It had been six long weeks since she had seen him. Six weeks since he'd given her a cheeky wink or did that thing where he bit his lip at the sight of her. Six weeks since she'd smelt him.

Molly gave up on the idea of sleep. A 5:30amwakeup call was fast approaching and already she was sticky from the humidity and rising heat. She pulled her towel and wash bag into her lap, sighing. It was going to be a long day.

Silently she made her way to the showers, deciding to get it out of the way before the masses descended in the morning rush. Her mind just kept going back to him. Was he okay? She guessed he was or he'd have ended up in her care by now in the hospital. Was he taking care of himself? Drinking enough in this heat? She laughed, reminding herself that he had been doing this a long time before she came along. But still he filled her mind. And she supposed he would continue to do so for the foreseeable.

She filled her flask with sweet tea and headed to the roof of the toilets in preparation to watch the sunrise. Her sister's letter from home, her most prized possession right now, clutched tightly in her hand in preparation to read yet again. To give her the strength she needed for this day.

She was counting down until her R&R. Relieved she had been given the requested leave to attend Georgie's wedding. She was more than excited. She just wished Charles could be with her and they didn't have to wait out any longer. It was killing her.

The sunset was doing its job of calming her nerves, helping her forget another rough sleep only to be disturbed by the MERTs that approached. Fuck!

She was off the roof quicker than she had ever moved before, multiple choppers meant multiple casualties. She would be needed.

Molly stood in the middle of the chaos, not sure where to turn first. Who needed her the most?

"Come on Mol's, you've got this!" Jackie encouraged, giving her a not so gentle push in the right direction.

She started recognises them, one by one. The ANA soldiers who had accompanied 2 section to the forward operating base a few miles away.

She did what she could, as quickly as she could for those who were in front of her whilst all the while hoping on one hand Charles wouldn't be next and on the other that he would be so she knew if he was alright or not. Hours passed in what was most definitely a war zone.

"Well done Private." She was praised. Her ability to work under pressure not going unnoticed.

She pushed her way through the double door, in desperate need to change out of her blood stained uniform when she saw him. He looked as weary as she felt but he was in one piece.

"Charles!" She almost wept, running towards him, their resolve to wait out under pressure. Relief swept over his face when he saw her. His safe place in an uncertain time right where she needed to be at exactly the right moment.

"I was scared Charles, I thought you'd been hurt"

He pulled her into a near by cubicle, closing the curtains around them. His long legs closing the gap between them immediately whilst his hand cups either side of her cheeks, desperately pulling her into him. Holding her tight. He needed this.

He'd accepted what they felt was intense, and something out of the ordinary. At least for him anyway. The emotion reliance on this girl he barely knew was shocking but he couldn't and wouldn't change it. He accepted that he needed her as she seemed to need him.

"I'm so fucking glad to see you." She felt the weight of his troubles leave his body as he held her tightly. His lips pressed heavily on the top of her head. She felt guilty that her first thought had been her own anxiety about his safety. "I'm here." She breathed into his chest. "It's okay, I'm here." The world carried moving around them. The fear of being caught in each other's arms on neither of their minds.

"Meet me at my cabin?" His eyes were so dark she couldn't work out which emotion it was that was almost pouring from them. But she knew he needed her and she'd be there.

-OG-

She breathed a sigh of relief to finally finish her shift. A day from hell but it would only get better now that he was back. She stopped by the mess picking up as much as she could sneak away so they could eat together in the privacy of his cabin. Her short legs carried her at lightning speed, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation of finally being back with him.

She check around her, ensuring she entered unseen, or at least she hoped, finding him peacefully sleeping. A little battered and bruised from his battle. She gave him a once over, noticing he needed a little bit of patching up. She lifted what looked like a swollen ankle, resting it on top of whatever she could find, trying her best not to disturb his peaceful and well deserved sleep.

She laid out their food, his first aid kit in preparation and waited. Crawling into the crook of his arm, taking him in the way she had longed to for all these weeks. She couldn't help herself, his handsome face was just begging to be touched.

Her fingers gently traced the outline of his perfect lips, so kissable. Her thumbs gently brushed away traces of the battle. Sand and dried blood. He had obviously been too tired to even shower. His dark brown eyes flickered open, he was pleased to see her.

"Molly!" His voice was gruff and tired.

"Hey you!" She whispered, unsure if he'd drift off back to sleep or not. But sleep wasn't on his mind now she was here. He cupped her cheek, pulling her as close as possible until their bodies were one.

"Fuck I've missed you." He kissed her greedily and she didn't complain. The salty taste of his skin, his smell, everything about him turning her on.

"Are you sure this is okay? What if we get caught?"

"Lock the door. I need you."

She did as instructed, excited that this might finally be happening for them. And it was. It was everything she'd hoped and imagined. All those months of cat and mouse had built up to this moment of pure passion. Maybe even love, she wasn't sure, but Molly knew that she had never felt this was about anyone before. She cared for him in such a way that she felt it deep inside her. When she was with him, the feelings she felt radiated through her entire body. Like every fibre of her being was completely and utterly in love with this man.

He kissed her forehead, as long as he was holding her. He didn't need to worry about what they had just done. Not yet anyway.

"I think we should get you fed and watered."

She reluctantly removed herself from his embrace, enjoying his protest as he grabbed at her to pull her back into his tiny single bed. Already craving her touch.

She handed him water and something to eat. Watching him scoff every mouthful with a shy smile on her face. He was bloody perfect.

"How's that foot?"

He didn't speak, too busy enjoying every mouthful of food that wasn't rations, instead giving her a thumbs up. "I'll live." He finally said, once again pulling playfully at her.

"I'll bandage it anyway." He let her do what she needed to do. Watching her. Enjoying her hands on his skin. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him this way. Since anyone had cared enough.

"You are so beautiful." He smirked.

She blushed at the compliment. "Alright gobshite. You've had your fill so you can cut the bullshit now."

"Absolutely no bullshit here Dawesy. You are the most beautiful woman I have even met."

He pulled her close to him. His long, strong arms enveloping her entire body. Drinking her in.

"I've been looking forward to holding you." He breathed into her hair, not ready to let her go anytime soon.

She enjoyed the moment, staying exactly where she was until they physically couldn't stay like that any longer. Now to deliver the bad news. Or at least she feared it would be bad news for him.

"I'm heading home tomorrow. 2 weeks R&R. Georgie's wedding and all that."

His eyes widened as the thought of her not being around sunk in.

"Wow Dawsey, I'd be on that plane with you given half the chance." He smiled sadly. Wishing he could be the lucky one who could be on her arm for what he was sure was going to be a grand affair.

He laced his fingers through hers, enjoying the touch from her tiny hands whilst he still could.

"Come back to me." Was all he said before once again pulling her into him. "Always." She promised.

She crumbled once more. Crashing her lips into his. Pushing her tongue greedily into his mouth.

"I want you." She panted and he didn't refuse. Both of them felt lucky and greedy but it didn't stop them. He had never broken the rules like this before, Molly was going to be the undoing of him. Something about her was worth the risk. So many times she had slipped through his fingers and now here they were, making love, spending time and they were both utterly infatuated. He would risk it all for this.

She collapses into his arms, safe and warm and back together.

"I have a request for you."

She nuzzles into his neck, desperately trying to cling onto this moment.

"I've had my Nespresso machine sent from a England at great expense..."

"To the taxpayer" she giggled.

"Maybe but completely justified because I'm not a fully functioning soldiers until I've had my first shot of coffee in the morning."

"Tea bag does me." She says dryly. He kisses away her smile, mesmerised by her.

He pulls her arm towards him, gently stroking her inner arm before writing his request on her skin. His touch is like electricity running through her skin, like nothing she has ever felt before.

"Rosabaya." She whispers, reading it to herself as he entwines his fingers through hers.

"I'll adore you for always."

Molly smiles, still not quite believing that this was happening and how far they had come since she arrived in Afghanistan.

-OG-

The feeling of dread that filled her stomach has replaced the one of excitement as she packed her belongings. The niggling in the back of her mind telling her to stay was growing with every passing minute as she prepped to leave.

Georgie's wedding, seeing her sisters. She was meant to be looking forward to going home. And now she wasn't. She wanted to be here, with him. To see him every day. To know that he was okay.

She searched high and low, needing desperately to say their goodbyes.

Molly held back tears that burned her eyes as she slung her Bergen over her shoulder. She really wasn't going to get her goodbye.

She took a last look at her quarters, glad to see the back of it for two whole weeks when she felt his presence.

"I thought you'd sodded off." She couldn't hide the upset in her voice.

"I'm so sorry. I had a medical examination. I couldn't get out of it but I'm here now."

He picked up her hand, checking there were no eyes on them before kissing it and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"All okay? Anything you want to talk about?"

"Nothing for you to worry about. All good."

She had no time to question him further. It really was time to leave him.

"I'll miss you." She said, almost crying.

"Ditto."

He took his chances, tilting her chin upwards, planting his lips greedily on hers.

"That will have to keep you going. Now get yourself out of here. And give Georgie my best."

She tip toed to steal one last kiss before walking away.

"Dawes." He called after her. She sprinted back, still unable to tear herself away from him.

"Yeah?"

He dropped his head so only she could hear him.

"I love you."


	12. Chapter 12

**Gemmadog's turn now. Its been a while and we may have lost one of the authors on the way but Sarahlouisek30 and I are hopefully enough to keep this story alive and going to it's fitting conclusion. Enjoy.**

**Step by Step**

**Chapter 12**

Molly giggled as she packed her kit bag. The stuff she was ramming in there was almost akin to what she would have taken on a holiday. Not back to a war zone!

The precious Rosabaya capsule had pride of place.

She had spent most of the two weeks leave getting herself ready to go back again.

Back to her job. Back to Afghan. Back to Charles. To the man who told her 13 days ago that he loved her.

Georgie's wedding had been fun, really good fun. Just as she'd expected. The bride looked amazing. The groom walked around like he'd won the lottery and the reception was loud and wild.

So, Molly has made the most of it. She had danced. She had drunk. She had made the absolutely most of her freedom and loved every minute.

Yet a large part of her still spent most of the night watching the door. Scanning the room. Hoping against hope that he'd walk through the door or cross the dance floor at any moment. Praying that Lady Luck would shine on them both and he'd make it there. To her. Just for one night. But he didn't and she missed him.

Simply put she knew she loved him too.

That hope he'd pitch up though had been a simple dream. She knew that in reality there wasn't a chance that it would have happened, but she still silently hoped. When the night had ended she made her way to her hotel room alone and felt his absence even more than she had expected.

However, the loneliness didn't dampen her spirits. Her sense of a challenge began. Accepting it she then went into planning mode. Planning for her return. Back to him.

The days slowly past away and she spent a good amount of her time catching up with others, visiting friends and the few bits of family she still kept in touch with.

But most of all she spent the time getting herself and her body ready. As in return back to Charles ready!

She planned it all perfectly. She went to the hairdressers, and the beauticians. Her hair was treated and cut. It now shone. She was waxed groomed and perfect, and the right bits that hadn't been quite right before, though he'd never complained, were now smooth and silky.

She felt good about herself and she felt excited. Treating herself like she had never treated herself before. She was now was the proud owner of several sets of strictly non regulation underwear to tease him with, and a body that was buffed and tanned to dazzle him with.

Now all she needed was time to speed up.

She couldn't wait and here she was just slightly more than 24 hrs off returning back to him, and time seemed to have suddenly stopped.

Looking at the clock she sighed happily throwing herself dramatically down on her bed. This time tomorrow she knew she'd be back on the flight. Back on the flight to Afghanistan. Back on the flight to her man. Back to tell him that she loved him too.

It had been hard being away from him, and she hoped he felt it too.

There had been no contact with him during her leave. Obviously. And they both knew there wouldn't and couldn't be. They had accepted that when the time to say goodbye came around. Mobile phones not an option and Skype a difficult, and totally unreliable commodity to communicate with an illicit lover by.

So, they both knew they couldn't risk it. They understood. That for now they had to wait out. Bide their time and wait. They still had to be ever so careful. Rumours spread quickly and if they did it could only spell trouble for them both. Neither wanted or needed that, not in their relationships or career. So, they just had to wait this time apart out.

Contact between them was forbidden but thinking about him wasn't. Molly therefore spent a lot of her time dreaming of him. Dreaming of them.

Many a quite night she laid there on her bed thinking of his touch on her skin. Her lips on his. The way his mouth had moved silently over her body and brought it to a crashing high.

She therefore indulged in a lot of 'me' time, there alone in her single bed back in the barracks, and she loved it.

To be fair, before Charles it had never been a thing she had done particularly well or had even done much. But then again she'd never really had any terms of reference to turn to before. Never really had that experience of how to reach her peak. Of how to understand her own body the way he did.

And then she met Charles and he had shown her just what her body was capable of, and in her alone time she started to put that instruction to good use.

Her future, she now optimistically hoped was no longer filled with nights where she had to lie back and think of England. That had changed as far as she was concerned. Instead with him it was a case of lie back and thoroughly enjoy being worshiped by a man who knew his way around a woman's body. Her body.

Still it wasn't the real thing, but memories and hope made it a damn good second best for now. Their time of being back together again would come. Just like she had so many times this week without him!

" I made you cry. The first time I saw you." He whispered into her hair as she had laid her head on his chest. Over the last two weeks apart Molly still remembered the feel of him underneath her as she once again day dreamed about their night together. She continued with her indulgence and blocked out the noise from the communal corridor of her accommodation and drifted off into a world that replayed their night of passion.

"It really made me feel like a grade one shit." Charles had continued. "I'm sorry."

She had sighed but with that happy contented smile on her face. Something that hadn't been there for a long while. "Don't worry." She said so quietly. "I wouldn't change a single thing about that day. It's when I first met you."

He shifted himself slightly up and pulled her with him. She positioned herself half on half off his body. Their naked skins still damp and sticking deliciously to each other. Both unashamed and uninhibited by their nakedness. There was no hurry, no need to leave. It was just them for now.

"Nothing?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing. Well yes actually." She focused on his chest and slowly drew her right index finger across the hairs and toyed with his nipples as she did so. He took in a shuddering breath at her touch. Instantly she felt him harden beneath her touch again. She smiled into his skin. Avoided eye contact, bizarrely the next confession made her shy. "I wish I'd asked for your phone number." She admitted.

"I wish I'd given it to you too." He said instantly and rolled his head around to try to look at her. "Wanted to...just didn't think it was the done thing! You know hitting on a bride on her wedding day?"

"No I guess it wasn't." She agreed with a giggle and began peppering kisses down his chest now. Happy with his admission. Slowly making her way south to his enthusiasm for her.

"Never been so pleased for a power cut in my life." He continued, speaking with a definite waiver to his voice as her kisses started to come dangerously close. "Molly!" He warned, but with little threat.

She teased him a bit more and then looked up at him as her chin rested just above his hip bone.

"What?" She asked with a grin, and then not waiting for an answer moved slightly and took him hungrily onto her mouth.

"Oh fuck Molly." He just was able to strangle out as he responded to her skill. "Oh don't stop Molly. Oh...Molly!"

"MOLLY. Mols." Someone shouted from outside her room and snapped her out of her day dreaming. Slightly confused for a moment when she realised she wasn't back in Afghanistan with Charles, but was lying in her bed in the barracks. "There's someone on the phone for you"

Slightly dazed and left wanting she popped her head out of the bedroom door and an acquaintance raced from the block past her by and nodded to the internal phone at the end of the passage. "Some Captain or another." She added, then left.

Molly's heart beat faster than it should have. Never daring to hope he'd be able to call but delighted that he was obviously doing so anyway.

And then the fear took over wondering if it was bad news that was making him call and it wasn't just a friendly chat.

She jogged to the phone. Unsure whether to be delighted by his call or scared.

Slightly out of breath through her memories, anxiety and speed she picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Dawes is that you?"

The line was crackly and she failed to hear the worlds properly.

"Course it is." She giggled. 100 percent certain she knew who it was on the other end of the line.

"Good. It's Captain Peters here. 12th regiment. In charge of the deployment of the RAMC to Syria."

Instantly her heart fell.

Crushed that it hadn't been Charles on the end of the line. Crushed that it wasn't his voice that she was hearing as she had hoped for.

"Sir?" Her mind buzzed with disappointment and curiosity.

"Change of plan I'm afraid. "Captain Peters continued. "I know you were due back to Afghanistan tomorrow. Well I'm sure as you've heard it's all gone a bit shit in Syria." He paused waiting for a response.

"Yes Sir." Was all she could commit to. The truth be told she hadn't watched much TV while she had been on leave. Too focused on her preparations to be concerned about what was happening elsewhere.

"We need you to be part of a new team and get out there PDQ. Tomorrow actually. So, we are pulling you from Afghanistan. Report at Brize at 14.00hrs and a full briefing will be given then. Any questions?"

"No sir I mean... yes Sir." Her mind was spinning. "I mean I ain't going back there at all?" She quietly asked. "Not even as a stopover or something?"

Peters laughed. "Afghanistan isn't exactly on the way there now is it Dawes?" He chuckled.

"No. I mean yes. I mean. Yes Sir." To thrown to realise that her limited geography of the world and its continents had been exposed. "What about me stuff and that?" She asked. "I left loads of kit behind?"

"All in hand." He reassured her. "Being packed up as we speak and it will meet you on the other side."

"But Sir?" She was unsure how to ask, still needed to. "What about me team out there? What will they think? Will they know?"

"Don't worry I'm sure your Captain out there has comms all under control." He was growing tired of the conversation now. He had several more calls to make to staff about their relocation. "Beside I'm sure you'll make new friends with this section."

Meekly all she could reply was an automatic. "Yes Sir." She knew it was pointless to argue.

"Good. Well then Dawes. Good luck. And it's a Sergeant Kinders you report to tomorrow. He has all the paperwork." And with that he was gone.

She moved quickly back to her room. Not wanting to stop and chat to the group of soldiers that littered the corridor, socialising outside their rooms in the communal living space. She needed time alone.

As soon as she closed the door softly tears started to spill.

It was the worst news. She wasn't going back to him. She had only six weeks left on her tour in Afghanistan. Six weeks which she thought she'd spend with him. Six more weeks to be close to him. And now suddenly it was gone, along with her hope. She wasn't going to see him again.

Then something clicked. He wouldn't know what was happening and she had to let him know. She had to make contact some way some how to explain why, despite her promise, she wasn't coming back to him. That it wasn't her fault. The options she knew were limited.

Writing to him directly might be dangerous. To send him a letter on the famous blue paper in her handwriting might raise a few questions and eyebrows. Especially once it was known she had been there with him, together for a while, before she went to Syria. She couldn't risk that. Couldn't put him through those potential questions without his permission.

Telephoning was out. Their personal phones just didn't work, personal calls on the public line we're monitored and not so were definitely not private.

Then she thought that there was Georgie. She might be a link to contacting him. She'd been her link before today. Maybe she had a way to contact him, that Molly could impose on. Let him know on her behalf the change of plan. Briefly she got excited but reality hit, that avenue wouldn't be possible for weeks. Georgie was on still on honeymoon and she couldn't even if she had wanted to get in contact with her.

Molly knew little of his family life so couldn't approach his parents and knew none of his friends. Her choices were poor.

She realised she was left with a limited choice. And eventually her only one came to her.

Jacqui; she could write to Jacqui.

Explain things and confess and hope she'd pass on a letter to him on her behalf. It was her only option, though still a poor one as it would take up to five long days for the letter to arrive. Five long days before he'd know what had happened to her.

Yet it was her only chance.

He paced nervously. Today was the day. Today Molly came back to him. Two weeks she had been gone. Two weeks without seeing her face across the room in the canteen. Two weeks of not hearing her laugh. Two weeks of not being close to her, of not touching her. Two weeks of not knowing her response to his declaration of love.

Their relationship was physically only in the early stages, but still he knew it was it was something special. Emotionally their relationship was far more advanced and he missed her.

Finally, they'd had a chance. A chance to move a relationship together forward, and all they had to do was get the next few months out of the way and then... well he had great hopes for them.

So today was the day she returned and he was nervous, excited and almost beside himself with physical anticipation of having the chance to hold her again.

He knew they needed to be careful. He knew, they both knew, were risking a lot, but he knew he was powerless to resist. She was his something special. She was what he'd been waiting for, to find. That illusive thing, love; and with Molly Dawes he was certain that he finally had.

So, he spent the day pacing. He spent the day waiting and looking at the skies for the transporter to arrive.

And then suddenly it did, and he started to measure time. He allowed for about half an hour before the bus would bring them into the accommodation part of the compound, and then she'd be here and he wondered what he'd do from that point on.

He was torn. He needed to keep some control. Some dignity. Questioning if he should wait for her in there special place or arrange it to be passing as the bus came to a halt, so she'd be the first thing she saw as she stepped off.

He knew caution was necessary and the only option really was to wait until she was settled and hope she would seek him out; visit him in his cabin once night had fallen.

Fate though took over.

The message came through that the bus had broken down close to the storage zone in the camp and his section were called in to unload it and the supplies it was bringing back. As they jogged closer to the bus Charles felt his heart race as he watched from a distance the passengers leave. His eyes scanned the crowds and assessed every single figure for hers and wasn't prepared for the crashing disappointed when he didn't see it.

"Is that all the personnel off?" He asked the driver, looking over the shoulder of him hoping she was still on there. Hoping she was just asleep, or unable to leave the bus for some reason.

"That's them all." The soldier replied back to him. "Quite a few more empty spaces coming back than I took I reckon." He critically added.

Charles was lost. He'd expected to see her and had mentally plotted her return down to the last minute, knowing this was the only load of soldiers coming in that day from Brize. If she wasn't on this one it very clearly meant that than she wasn't coming back. She wasn't coming back to camp, to him and he didn't know why.

It was hell. She knew though it would be. She had only half her kit so far. The camp was basic and it was ridiculously hot and humid. Everything was damp and sweaty. Afghanistan was hot but dry. Syria was hot and damp. The cot she had to sleep on for the next foreseeable was musty and poor. She lamented the loss instantly of the unsteadily camp bed she had left behind.

She lamented the loss of everything she had left behind. Especially Charles.

As she familiarised herself half heartedly with the camp, just on the right side of the Syrian boarder she tried to be positive, but her upper most thought was of the letter she wrote just before she left.

She wondered when he'd get it, when he'd know she wasn't coming back. Wondering if he'd already knew. That maybe he'd have been part of some inside intel that would have prepared him for her absence or would he have been just as shocked as her. That she wasn't coming back to finish what they had so definitely started.

The letter she enclosed and entrusted to Jacqui said it all. Explained everything and more. She poured her heart out onto the blue sheets of paper. It was like no other letter she had ever written before, reasoning that she had nothing to lose any more except him and she never wanted to do that. She therefore hoped and prayed Jacqui would keep her secret and deliver the letter as requested. That the favour Molly asked of her friend wasn't a favour too much.

As promised she had learnt more once she had arrived to Brize and then again on the long noisy and uncomfortable flight over. Something for some reason had kicked off. She was still unclear as to what or why, but she did know they were there to help. Just on the Syrian boarder. Not quite in and not quite out was how it was explained. They were to work with the locals there, and first reports were it was a pretty desperate place to be. Their job was to treat those that they could and help ease the suffering of those they couldn't. She was, it was coldly explained here until the end of her tour, and no formal return date had been made clear. All she took away from her de brief was that there was very definitely no return to Afghanistan and no leave. And so, Molly as she tried to close her eyes and find a happy place had to also come to terms very quickly with the fact that this was her lot and nothing could change that for now.

He ran. He ran hard. He ran fast. He ran to forget the crushing pain he felt inside him. It twisted and flared each time he thought of her and her absence.

It had been days now and still she hadn't come. And running was the only thing he could think of to help him work through this.

She mattered. She really mattered to him and that's why all this hurt even more. Even though it was wrong. The wrong place and the wrong time it was unstoppable and yet despite that he knew he was going to take every sweet perfect step he could to make it perfect.

Their time out there was temporary but his life with Molly he felt was potentially something more. She had gotten under his skin a long time ago. Had become a part of him that he hadn't quite realised he needed; until she was suddenly there. Waiting for him.

So, he took the chance and he'd never felt more scared, and happier before in his life. This was the start of something. Or so he thought. That's what he'd believed; until he'd heard the chat in the Ops room.

Charles had simply expected her back and had never considered that she wouldn't come back, so when she didn't come back, he at first believed it was down to some unknown force. Some other circumstance beyond her control that had prevented her return; but that eventually she would.

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.

Yet all those hopes came crashing down as he heard her Captain three days later after her expected return talking about cover and reduced numbers in her section.

"A right bloody pain in the arse." Captain Brooke moaned. Her face twisted in concentration. "Three medics down. So now I have three shifts to cover as well as Dawes' transfer."

Her Corporal murmured her consent and shifted some paper.

"I mean who actually bloody goes and volunteers to be transferred away from here?" Brooke asked. "I mean actually begs for the transfer from here to Syria. I knew Dawes was keen, but I didn't think she was unhappy enough to put herself forward for that op, and to leave and head off there as soon as she could."

Charles heard no more. At that moment he turned and left. Not wanting to hear any more. Of all the things he'd expected, hoped, for that was not it.

It was definite now; Molly wasn't coming back. That was hard to hear. Yet what was even harder to hear was that she herself had asked not to come back. That she was so unhappy to return back to Afghanistan, and so chose Syria instead over coming back to. Coming back to him.

And so, as he turned away from the tent he made the decision and ran.

Ran to forget. Ran to burn off the pain and raw emotion he was feeling. He felt betrayed and he felt her loss. He felt stupid that he'd gotten them so wrong.

Eventually he could run no more. Sweat soaked and weary he made his way to his quarters. Briskly avoiding his section and a group of friends who were singing and enjoying themselves outside one of the canteens. He was in no mood.

He needed to focus up. He needed to move past this. Concentrate on the job in had and forget Molly Dawes. He was a Captain in the British Army for fucks sake. Not a lovesick puppy. And so, he moved through the camp with purpose.

"Sir!" Someone shouted at him. "Sir." But he ignored it.

He'd almost reached his cabin door when he heard a louder, more out of breath.

"Captain James."

His face was black with anger. He wanted more time to pull himself together. One more night of mourning her, and his loss then he'd move on. He did not want to be disturbed.

He turned reluctantly and saw standing in front of him, looking very unsure was one of Molly's friends. Jacqui.

"Yes." He said too sharply and he watched her almost shrink away. "What is it Corporal?"

She said nothing. Too afraid he guessed.

Instead all she did was hand him over a blue forces mail letter and then turned and quickly left. She said no words. Gave no explanation.

He held it in his hands and flipping it over he saw neat writing he didn't recognise. He was confused as to why a Queen Alexandra's Royal Army Nursing Corporal was bringing him his mail.

Still angry and now overtly curious he stumbled into his room and sat on his bed. Expectation took over and he opened it.

His anger dispersing immediately. His heart swelling instantly as he read the words.

Dear Charles, it began...

And he knew.

Those first few lines. The first among many... well he just knew.

Everything was righting itself. Everything he believed was true.

The words said it all and did so much more.

A smile appeared on his face and a boom to his heart that chased away the sadness that had once been there.

Everything was well in the world.

The letter was from Molly.


End file.
